Resolution
by WeasleyWannabee
Summary: "I think you're an arrogant, selfish pig, and I think you'd be doing both of us a favor if you just left me alone!" Potter stared at me for a moment, an unreadable expression in his hazel eyes, before uttering a single word: "Okay." J/L, Lily's POV.
1. Prologue

**Summary: **"I think you're an arrogant, selfish pig, and I think you'd be doing both of us a favor if you just left me alone!" Potter stared at me for a moment, an unreadable expression in his hazel eyes, before uttering a single word: "Okay."

**A/N: I know, I've already done an L/J story. And am currently in the middle of a sequel to that story. Speaking of which, STAC readers can rest assured that this story will take second priority to STAC: The Sequel. Also speaking of sequels, I'm not in any way shape or form planning one for this story, nor will I be convinced to create one. I actually did this weird thing where I planned out a majority of the story before I started writing. *el gasp!* So, I've got a pretty good idea where I'm heading, and it will definitely end with . . . er . . . the end. Yes, eloquent, I know. Ahem, anyway, since I **_**have **_**already done an L/J, I'll try to make this one as little like STAC as possible. There will be certain similar scenes, but I'll try to give them only a passing resemblance to my other story. Lily and James are just too fun to write to only do one story!**

**Additional disclaimer: Writing STAC I discovered that I like writing L/J hating each other and as friends A LOT more than when they're an item. So, look for a longer stretch of both those things in this story, and much less on the dating side. Not to say there won't be L/J moments, of course, because those are fun to write as well ;)**

**Prologue**

_"I don't need help from fithly little Mudbloods like her!"_

_ "Fine," I said coolly. "I won't bother in future."_

"I really am sorry, Lily! What do you want me to do?"

I whirled around—he'd finally pushed me too far. "Nothing! There's nothing you can do, Severus! Why can't you realize that what you did—said—was unacceptable, and that I will never _ever _forgive you for it!"

Severus had been following me around for the entire day, ambushing me the minute class ended, cornering me after lunch, and now tailing after me as I made my way back to Gryffindor tower after dinner.

"Never?" he asked incredulously. "Don't you think you're overreacting a little?" He seemed to realize instantly that that was the wrong thing to say, or perhaps he'd noticed the way my hands had clenched into fists at his words, because he quickly added, "I mean, I thought we were supposed to be friends?"

"So did I," I returned bitingly. We had reached the portrait that covered the entrance to the Gryffindor common room. "Fizzing Whizbees," I announced to the Fat Lady. As she swung open to admit me, I turned back to Sev. "You know this isn't the only reason we can't be friends anymore," I told him evenly. When he opened his mouth to protest, I cut him off. "You've chosen your way, and I've chosen mine. And that's all there is to it. Goodbye, Severus."

Despite my anger, I still had to blink back tears as I made my way across the common room towards the girls' staircase. Though part of me hated him for the choice he'd made, I couldn't help but feel sadness at the loss of his friendship. He'd been the first wizard I'd met, the one who'd introduced me to the secret world of magic where I belonged. But the shame I felt about ultimately being wrong about him, foolish for thinking he'd ever change, tainted the good memories.

Just before I reached the staircase, someone blocked my path. Looking up, I felt my hands curl into fists again. "What do you want, Potter?" I snapped, glaring up at the messy-haired boy before me.

He returned my gaze, an uncharacteristically serious look on his face. "I just wanted to apol—" he started.

I made a noise halfway between a growl and a sigh. "Ugh, not you too!" I said, throwing up my hands in frustration. "I don't want to hear it," I said, pushing past him.

Potter grabbed my wrist, pulling me around to face him again. I suddenly realized that several people were staring at us, but I didn't care. "Come on, at least hear me out, Evans," he said.

I didn't answer. Yanking my wrist from his grasp, I turned once more towards the stairs to my dormitory.

"You're lucky I'm actually trying to apologize, instead of just saying 'I told you so,'" Potter called out angrily from behind me.

I froze with my foot on the first stair. Slowly, I turned back to face him. "What?" I asked, my voice dangerously quiet.

Potter, always undeterred by the threat of my fiery temper, continued, "Honestly, anyone could have seen this coming. I'll bet even you did, deep down. So it can't have come as that much of a surprise, really."

My fingers twitched towards my wand, itching to whip it out and hex James Potter and his bloody arrogance into the next century. _How dare he? How _dare _he assume he knows anything about it? _The worst part was, I couldn't help but admit he was right. I _had _been expecting this, though that didn't make it any less painful. Of course, this only made me angrier with Potter. "God, this is all just a big game to you, isn't it?" I shouted at him. Potter winced, and I took vindictive pleasure in the fact that I'd struck a nerve. "I suppose you think you've won, finally getting him to crack and show his true colors? Well, congratulations, Potter, you did it—Snape and I are no longer friends."

Potter's eyebrows rose slightly at my use of Severus's surname, but he didn't comment on it. Instead, he said quietly, "So, that's what you really think?"

The clear hurt in his voice caught me off guard. I'd yelled at him countless times, called him every foul name under the sun, but this was the first time he'd actually shown . . . well, anything, in response to my words. _Merlin, James Potter actually has feelings, _I thought scathingly. Well, he wasn't going to get any sympathy from me. I knew I was being unfair, that it hadn't really been Potter's fault Sev had said what he did, but I didn't care. I needed someone to blame, and he was the easiest target.

"Yes, that's what I think," I replied cruelly. "I think you're an arrogant, selfish pig, and I think you'd be doing both of us a favor if you just left me alone!"

A ringing silence followed this pronouncement; everyone in the common room had by now stopped what they were doing to watch our exchange. Potter stared at me for a moment, an unreadable expression in his hazel eyes, before uttering a single word: "Okay."

**A/N: I'm posting the first chapter along with this prologue, as it's pretty short. Next part will be the beginning of sixth year.**


	2. Can't Believe

**A/N: Okay, here's chapter one! And, just to let you know, I've decided to title all the chapters using Sister Hazel song titles. Because . . . well, no reason actually, I just have a lot of their songs, because they are awesome, and I always hate thinking up chapter names, so I thought it'd be fun to try and do it this way this time!**

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Chapter 1: Can't Believe**

"Goodbye, dear, have a good term," Mum said, kissing my cheek.

"We'll see you at Christmas," my father added.

"Bye," I replied, smiling at my parents. My gaze flicked briefly towards my sister, sulking behind mum and dad, a sour expression on her face. "See you, Tuny," I added, my voice slightly chilly.

"See you," she muttered in return, her tone even colder than mine.

My parents glance between us anxiously, but before they could say anything, I turned abruptly and pushed my cart towards the solid barrier between platforms nine and ten.

Emerging on the other side, I let out a long sigh. My sister and I had never been particularly close as children—my odd "abilities" had frightened Petunia and acted as a barrier between us. When I'd discovered that what I could do was actually magic, that barrier had hardened into an unbreachable wall, solidified by Petunia's jealousy. That jealousy had eventually morphed into hatred, and now we barely tolerated each other's presence. Our frosty relationship pained our parents, who were forever forcing us to interact, trying to restore the friendly feelings we'd once had for each other. I knew they meant well, but their efforts became rather irritating after a while—they just couldn't accept the fact that it was a break that would never heal.

I boarded the Hogwarts Express and stowed my luggage. Since I'd be patrolling the corridors soon after we departed, I'd already changed into my school robes. Pinning my prefect's badge to my chest, I began searching the compartments for my best friend, Mary Macdonald.

We'd been friends since Madame Hooch had partnered us up for our first flying lesson on the second day of first year. Both of us were hopeless at flying, and had spent much of the lesson giggling at our disastrous attempts to mount our brooms. We'd also bonded over a shared disdain towards the two boys in our year who excelled at flying and who'd proceed to show off for the entire lesson. One of them was none other than James Potter himself, and the other was his best mate and partner in crime, Sirius Black.

Unfortunately, even Mary had fallen for the famous—or, in my opinion, infamous—Potter charm, pining after him for the better part of fourth year. We'd had a huge falling out that year, as it had been at this exact same time that Potter had decided, for reasons still unknown to me, that he wanted to date me. So began the relentless flirting and countless episodes of him asking me out. Mary had been jealous of me, even though I assured her I'd rather jump off a cliff than date James Potter. Luckily, she'd eventually realized the folly of her ways, and had been happily dating Andrew Mackey, a Ravenclaw in our year, since the beginning of last term.

Sadly, similar positive transformations couldn't be said of Potter. No matter how many times I turned him down, he always asked again. I mean, you almost had to give him credit for his persistence—almost. Maybe if he wasn't such a chauvinistic toerag.

_And speak of the devil, _I though resignedly as I entered a new car only to spot Potter walking towards me. I ground my teeth together, bracing myself for the fresh pick-up lines he'd no doubt developed over the summer, and . . . nothing. Not even his characteristic smirk, the one he seemed to save especially for me. In fact, he barely glanced at me as we passed in the corridor. My jaw actually dropped open in surprise, and I turned to stare at his retreating back, waiting for him to turn around. But he didn't. He merely pushed open the door I'd just come through and passed into the next train car.

_What the hell? _I thought in confusion. _Since when does Potter give up an opportunity to flirt with me? Maybe he didn't see me? _I snorted. Bloody unlikely. We'd been barely a foot from each other in the narrow corridor. Besides, Potter seemed to have some sort of radar for me—he could pick me out of a crowd in about two seconds flat. Of course, that may have had something to do with my flaming red hair, but still. The point was, our recent interaction—or rather, lack thereof—had been completely atypical. And for some reason, completely unsettling.

Still lost in my thoughts, I didn't see figure running towards me until we'd nearly collided.

"Lily!" Mary's voice squealed, her brown curls bouncing as she threw her arms around me.

I hugged her back, and announced as we separated, "Potter is ignoring me."

A small frown appeared between Mary's blue eyes. "Well, it's nice to see you too," she said, planting her hands on her hips.

I hitched a smile onto my face. "Sorry," I apologized. "It just distracted me, that's all." And I proceeded to tell her about Potter's and my recent exchange as Mary led me back to the compartment she'd saved for us.

Mary was still frowning by the time I finished. "Maybe I'm missing something, but you sound like this is a bad thing."

"What? No, of course it's not _bad, _but don't you think it's a little weird?"

Mary shrugged. "Maybe he really didn't see you, or was lost in thought or something."

I snorted. "Potter's thoughts are hardly deep enough for him to get lost in."

My friend sighed—she always treated my hatred of Potter with a resigned acceptance. "Well, then, I don't know, Lily," she said. "But you don't really think he's going to keep asking you out this year, do you?"

That was the last thing I'd expected her to say. James Potter stop asking me out? That would surely be a sign that the world was coming to an end. "What do you—" I started in confusion, but was interrupted when the compartment door slid open.

"Hey, Remus," Mary said brightly, smiling at the newcomer.

"Hi Mary, Lily," Remus Lupin replied.

I smiled at my fellow prefect in return—Remus was the only one of the Marauders I actually liked. In fact, I couldn't really see how a nice bloke like him had wound up friends with such tossers like Black and Potter.

"Ready?" Remus asked me.

_For what? _I wracked my brains, trying to figure out what he was talking about.

Some of my confusion must have shown on my face, because Remus clarified, "For the prefect's meeting."

"Oh, right. Yes, I'm coming," I said, jumping to my feet. Potter's strange behavior had driven my duties completely out of my mind. _Bloody Potter, _I thought irritably as I followed Remus from the compartment.

"So, did you have a good summer?" I asked him as we started towards the front of the train, hoping to distract myself from thoughts of Potter and his infuriating . . . persona.

"Yeah, it was all right," Remus said offhandedly. "You?"

Something in the way he said it made me think he was deliberately trying to turn the conversation away from himself, a habit I'd discovered he was expert at. In our entire time as prefects last year, I felt like I'd told him nearly everything about me during our countless rounds of the castle, yet he still felt somewhat like a stranger to me.

"Oh, it was fine," I said. "Three months in close quarters with my sister is never fun, but I survived," I said with a smile. "I'm probably one of the only people who actually look forward to coming back to school in the fall."

"No, I know what you mean," Remus replied. He smirked slightly at me. "And how is dear Petunia these days?"

_There he goes again, putting the focus back on me. _"Just as magic-hating and stubbornly Muggle as ever," I answered. My sister had been a frequent topic of conversation between us last year. Curious what it was like growing up a Muggle-born, Remus had asked me countless questions about my family. It had been nice to vent my feelings about Tuny to someone other than Mary, who'd heard it all too many times over the years.

"Actually, she has a boyfriend now," I continued, loathe as I was to remember this fact. "Vernon Dursley."

Remus raised an eyebrow, an amused smile on his lips. "Nice name," he commented.

"I know, horrible, isn't it? Anyway, of course she had to tell him about me, and he's almost worse than she is about it! So now I have to endure the two of them glaring at me like I'm some offending piece of scum on their shoe."

Remus winced in sympathy. "Well, I'm not surprised you're happy to get back to Hogwarts."

"Yeah, my life is pretty tragic," I said with mock sincerity.

Remus merely smiled in return.

We reached the prefects compartment, entered, and took two of the empty seats. The four prefects from Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw were already there. "Typical," I muttered to Remus. "The Slytherins are the last to arrive."

He nodded in agreement.

A few moments later, this year's Head Boy and Girl entered the compartment, followed closely by the Slytherin prefects. "Welcome back everyone," the Head Boy, Charlie Camden said, smiling around at us all. "Well, you all know the drill, so we're going to keep this short, especially since we've got the new prefects to instruct in a few minutes."

"If the eight of you would do patrols from now until lunchtime, we'll have the new prefects take the shift after lunch," Head Girl Kali Michaels continued. "We'll hand you the common room passwords on the way out, and the patrol and meeting schedules will be posted on the common room notice boards within the week." She turned to her fellow Head Boy. "I think that's it, right?"

"Yep," Charlie replied. "See you all at the feast."

We all rose and exited the compartment, stopping to take the slips of paper with our respective common room passwords from Kali as we went. "Well, that was hardly worth it," I commented to Remus as we struck off along the corridor.

"It's nice that we'll be done by lunch, though," he replied.

But I hardly noticed what he said, because I'd spotted Potter once again ahead of us. "Hey Moony, that was quick," he said as he neared us.  
"Yeah, well, they figure we know what we're doing by now, I guess," Remus said with a grin.

Potter shook his head, sighing in mock resignation. "They never learn, do they?" By now he'd drawn even with us. "Evans," he added, almost as an afterthought, nodding at me as he passed us.

Before I could stop myself, I turned and called after him, "What, aren't you even going to try and ask me out?" In all honesty, I have no idea what made me say that. I suppose I was hoping it would provoke a normal response out of him, something to assuage my confusion.

But instead of what I'd expected him to say—something along the lines of, 'Why, do you want me to?'—he looked back and said with a frown, "Now, that would be rather counterproductive, don't you think, Evans?" And without waiting for a response, he turned and continued up the corridor.

_Well, at least he's still acknowledging my existence, _I thought. _Wait, did he say it would be 'counterproductive'? What did _that_ mean?_ I spun around to find Remus looking at me in amusement. "What?" I asked him, a little defensively.

He shrugged, starting forward once more. His lips were pressed together as though he was trying to hold in a laugh. Potter's comment combined with what Mary had said earlier and now Remus's reaction definitely made me feel like I was missing something.

A fairly large something, as I discovered near the end of our patrol. It had been rather boring—hardly anyone had been acting rowdy or trying to do magic. Not that I encouraged such behavior, of course (unlike some people I could name), but it did make patrols go by faster when there was actual rule breaking to punish.

"Well, time's almost up," Remus said, glancing at his watch.

"Thank Merlin," I said with a sigh of relief. "Not that I don't enjoy your company, of course, but I'm starving."

Remus smiled. "Understandable."

We entered a new car. I was absently glancing into compartments as we passed, and had to do a double-take when I passed the fifth one on the right. Inside, I recognized the unmistakably messy head of James Potter. His back was to me, though I didn't think he'd have noticed me even if he was facing the other way, as he was currently wrapped around some girl snogging her face off. Or so it looked to me. I almost threw up—seriously, who wants to see that? At least put the window blinds down. Too bad public displays of affection aren't punishable.

_Well, that explains a lot, _I thought as I hurried along the corridor. I'd only fallen about a pace behind Remus, and I was hoping he hadn't noticed what distracted me, but one look at his face shattered those hopes into tiny pieces. He was definitely battling against a grin now, and losing.

"I think I'm going to find Mary, if that's all right with you," I said, praying he'd just let it go.

"Fine," he said, his voice shaking slightly, as though with suppressed laughter.

I strode quickly into the next car and ducked into the compartment I'd left three hours ago. "Hey Mary," I said.

Mary glanced up. "Wow, that was quick."

"Not to me," I muttered. "Anyway, the lunch cart hasn't been by yet, has it?"

"No."

"Good, because I'm so hungry I could eat a hippogriff." Clearing my throat slightly, I added in what I hoped was a casual voice, "By the way, do you know if Potter's seeing anyone?"

Mary looked at me shrewdly, not fooled in the slightest. "What makes you say that?"

"Only I saw him practically administering the Dementor's Kiss to a girl back there," I explained, jerking my thumb at the car behind us. My eyes narrowed. "And don't act all innocent—you knew about this, didn't you?"

"Yes, but so did basically the entire school, Lily," she said, rolling her eyes. "And I thought that included you, which is why I was confused when you were wondering why James was ignoring you."

"Right, I figured. Wait, how does the whole school know? We're not even at Hogwarts yet!"

"They started seeing each other at the end of last year," Mary said, sounding as would-be casual as I had a moment earlier. And I knew why. The end of last year had not been a high point for me. In fact, I'd basically walked around in a haze for the last week of it, studiously avoiding Severus and Potter before exploding at both of them on the last day of term.

"Oh, right," I mumbled. "Well, who is she?"

"That fifth year, Chloe Sanders," Mary answered.

I frowned. "A fifth year? How does Potter even know her?"

"Oh come on, Lily—she's on the Quidditch team, remember?" she replied, now sounding slightly exasperated. In my defense, I'd never actually been to a Quidditch game—I thought the sport sounded rather boring, as a matter of fact. And although she'd started out as dismal a flyer as me, Mary had grown to love Quidditch, though I secretly suspected she only attended the games to check out the boys in their form-fitting uniforms. Case in point: Andrew played Keeper on the Ravenclaw team. Speaking of . . .

"Has Andrew come by yet?" I inquired.

"Nope," Mary answered, sounding unconcerned.

"Er, you _are _still seeing him, aren't you?" I asked tentatively. I mentally crossed my fingers, hoping I hadn't missed _this _vital development as well.

"Of course," Mary said with a little frown.

"Okay," I said defensively. After all, how should I know how these relationship things worked? Besides, last year Mary had jumped at every opportunity to see Andrew, but now, after they'd spent an entire summer apart, she was just calmly sitting here? Shaking my head, I decided to change the subject. "So, how was your summer? I just realized I haven't had a chance to ask you yet."

"It was great—my parents ended up taking the last two weeks off and we all went to Paris." Mary's parents both worked at the Ministry, her mother in the Department of Magical Transportation and her father in the Department of Magical Games and Sports. Come to think of it, maybe that's where she'd gotten her inexplicable love of Quidditch.

"That sounds fun," I said, a little jealous. I'd never traveled outside the country before.

"It was—but how was your summer?" I got the feeling some of my jealousy must have come out in my voice, and Mary was refraining from going into detail about her trip on my behalf. Sometimes her thoughtfulness caught me off guard. But I appreciated it anyway.

"Oh, you know, pretty standard," I replied. I told her what I'd related to Remus about Petunia and her new man.

Mary wrinkled her nose. "Urgh, he sounds awful," she said. "I can't understand how your parents could have produced such a horrible person like your sister and such an amazing one like you," she added, winking at me.

I grinned back at her. "I know, mystery of the century."

At this point, the food cart arrived, and I nearly bought the poor old witch pushing it out of her stock, hungry as I was. Just as I was polishing off my last cauldron cake, Andrew poked his head into our compartment. "Hey girls," he said brightly, smiling at each of us in turn. Glancing at me, he said, "Hope you don't mind, Lily, but I'm going to steal this one away for a while." He grabbed Mary's hand and pulled her to her feet.

"See you at the feast?" Mary asked, a slightly worried look in her eyes.

I nodded, smiling reassuringly at her, and she and Andrew left. Mary had always been anxious about spending time with Andrew at the expense of leaving me behind, but honestly, I didn't mind. I mean, I appreciated her concern, but daft as I was about relationships, even I understood that you deserved some time alone with each other.

I guess it was a little sad that I really didn't have any other friends besides Mary. Okay, so I used to have Severus's friendship—again, I had to give Mary credit for tolerating that relationship—but that was definitely out of the question now. Don't get me wrong, I got along fine with the two other sixth year Gryffindor girls—Marlene McKinnon and Dorcas Meadows— but I'd never really felt like I fit in with them. I wasn't your typical boy-obsessed, makeup-wearing teenage girl. And while I was as much a sucker for gossip as the next person, the level to which the other girls in my dormitory discussed it frankly bored me after a while. That's why Mary and I had clicked so well—while she always knew almost everything about everyone, she didn't love discussing it endlessly either.

I passed the rest of the train ride watching the scenery slowly change from small country villages to the wilder northern forests that characterized the land around Hogwarts. About twenty minutes after the landscape had completely darkened, the train began to slow down, eventually pulling to a stop at Hogsmeade station.

Disembarking with the rest of the student body, I made my way towards the horseless carriages waiting to transport us up to the castle. As I reached the long line of black carriages, I spotted Mary and Andrew waving frantically (well, the 'frantic' bit was more in Mary's case than Andrew's) to me from inside one of them. Hurrying up to it, I popped inside, settling down across from the couple.

"How was the rest of your trip?" Mary asked, again with an anxious note in her voice.

"Thrilling, naturally," I answered flippantly, hoping my teasing tone would reassure my friend. "And yours?" I asked, glancing at both of them.

Andrew grinned slyly. "Pretty great, though I'm sure for very different reasons," he said with a wink, causing Mary to blush.

I laughed, and we passed the rest of the ride to the castle discussing what we thought our next Defense Against the Dark Arts professor would be like. We'd had a different one each of our five years at Hogwarts so far, and though we'd received no official word that Professor Henkel was leaving at the end of last year, there was no doubt in our minds that his seat at the teacher's table would be filled with a new person at the welcome feast this evening.

And indeed, upon entering the Great Hall, my eyes were immediately drawn to the one unfamiliar face at the front of the room. Our new professor was a small, cheery-looking woman with short blond hair framing her heart-shaped face and sparkling green eyes. _Hmm, _I thought, _I wouldn't pick someone who looks like that to be teaching Defense. Looks like she wouldn't harm a fly. Then again, I suppose that would come as an advantage in duels._

Mary and Andrew parted ways with a swift kiss at the Ravenclaw table, and she and I sat down together in the middle of our own House table. Looking along it, my stomach clenched as it always did at the sight of Potter and Black, seated a few feet down from Mary and me. They were being their typical raucous and rambunctious selves, joking and laughing loudly. Remus was observing them with the half-amused, half-resigned smile he usually wore around his friends, and Peter Pettigrew, the fourth member of their little gang, was staring at Potter and Black as though they were gods—again, typical behavior from him. What was new was the recent addition to their group, Potter's girlfriend—my mind stumbled a little on the word—Chloe. Now that I was able to get a decent look at her without Potter's head, arms, and lips in the way, I did recognize her, though vaguely. She had a curtain of long, sleek blond hair, bright, innocent blue eyes, and, when she smiled, she revealed two rows of even, white teeth. _Typical, _I muttered to myself. _Potter would find the most stereotypically perfect girl in the school to date._

As I watched, Chloe laughed loudly at something Potter had said, placing her hand on his arm as though she needed the support to keep from falling on the floor with mirth. I rolled my eyes. _Obvious much? _I thought derisively. Just then, Potter happened to glance in my direction, and our eyes met. A strange emotion I couldn't place flashed through his before he turned back to his entourage, and I quickly dropped my eyes to my plate, slightly embarrassed that he'd caught me staring at him. I knew I'd pay for it later—he'd no doubt drop in some comment about how he knew it was hard for me to keep my eyes off him, but I'd have to—_wait, no he won't,_ I thought suddenly. _With this new girlfriend of his, he won't be flirting with me or asking me out at all this year. _Being that it was Potter, I couldn't completely discount the flirting bit, of course, but I abruptly felt far warmer towards Chloe than I had previously. This was already shaping up to be a much better year than last.

After overstuffing myself with delicious feast food, as I always did, and after Dumbledore's typical welcome speech, in which he warned us against entering the Forbidden Forest, delineated all the banned objects—Fanged Frisbees and the like—and introduced our new Defense teacher, Professor Galbraithe, we all left the Hall, longing for our warm beds and a good night's sleep.

Muttering a 'see you later' to Mary, I hurried to the front of the line of Gryffindors so I could lead the first years to our common room and let everyone know the password. Meeting up with Remus at the doors to the Entrance Hall, I said, "Ready to show the firsties where to—"

I stopped abruptly, my eyes lighting on a pair of people in the shadows of the marble staircase. Unbelievably, Potter and Chloe had their arms wrapped around each other once again, and were kissing as though the fate of the world depended on it. "Merlin, could they really not wait that long?" I muttered, mostly to myself, though I thought I heard Remus chuckle beside me. Unable to help myself, I called over to them, "Do you mind? Some of us would like to keep the food we just ate _inside _our stomachs!"

Remus was definitely laughing now, and, seemingly out of nowhere, Black appeared at my side. "Well, then you'd better hope they don't get too close a look at your face, Evans," he commented, grinning cruelly at me.

I merely rolled my eyes. _Honestly, is that the most creative response he could come up with? He should know by now that insulting my looks doesn't bother me, especially when it comes from him. In fact, if he _did _find me attractive, I think I'd have to plunge my head into Moaning Myrtle's toilet in shame._

Before I could offer a biting reply, however, Potter surfaced with a disgusting squelching sound. "Hey, mate, I'd lay off if I were you. She could give you a detention, you know."

Sirius's grin widened. "Nah, she wouldn't dare, would you, Evans?" He punched me on the shoulder in a would-be-friendly-but-actually-kind-of-hurt way.

Just barely refraining from wincing—because I didn't want to give Black the satisfaction—I replied, "Potter's right—you better watch yourself, Black."

Sirius just laughed, and I strode away, disgusted with the lot of them. _Wait, did the phrase 'Potter's right' just come out of my mouth? God, that's disturbing. More to the point, did he just _defend _me? _I mean, as defenses go, it wasn't much to speak of, but coming from Potter, it was noteworthy. Usually he egged Sirius on when he insulted me, most likely adding one to the pile himself. _And he wonders why I never agreed to go out with him? _But this time he'd actually tried to get Black to stop, or at least that's how it had seemed to me. _Had _some strange sort of change come over him? I snorted, immediately dismissing the possibility. Pricks like Potter never changed.

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A/N: So, thoughts? Hope you like it so far—I rather enjoyed writing Lily's thoughts, as I'm a big fan of sarcasm ;)**


	3. Strange Cup of Tea

**A/N: Much thanks to all those who've reviewed so far: andientropy, theycallherkaush, ShikaTem Sand-Leaf, CuteDreamer, VaneBEAR, Sam-EvansBlue, and TimeWitch'93!**

**I'm watching The Matrix as I post this—never seen it before—and my basic reaction so far is . . . WTF? Haha.**

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Chapter 2: Strange Cup of Tea**

"Don't you just love the first day of term?" I asked, sitting down with Mary at breakfast. "Fresh start, exciting new things to learn, no homework looming over us yet—what?"

Mary was looking at me like I'd spouted an extra head. "You are so weird," she pronounced. "Though I suppose you have a point about the homework thing."

I sighed. "Fine, I'll just shut up, then," I said, pretending to look dejected.

"Ah, thank you kindly, Evans," Black's voice came from behind me, causing me to jump slightly. Turning in my seat, I glared up at his grinning face. "Though I must say I agree with you about the new year—for completely different reasons, of course."

Before I could ask what he was on about, the question was answered for me as Sirius winked at a pair of fifth year girls, tossing his hair out of his eyes with a casual elegance. The girls giggled as they passed us, and Sirius turned back to me with a smirk. "Yep, gotta love the first day of school!" And with that he turned after the girls.

I rolled my eyes as the other Marauders continued in Black's wake along the table. Remus half-smiled, half-grimaced at me as though apologizing for his friend's behavior. Peter gave me a nervous smile and hurried after the other two. And Potter walked by without even glancing at me. I spun in my seat to face Mary. "Did you see that?" I demanded.

She frowned. "See what?"

I sighed in exasperation. "Potter! He didn't even look at me!"

Mary raised an eyebrow. "I think you're being a little paranoid about this, Lily," she said.

"That's not—I'm not _paranoid_," I protested. "I'm just . . . confused," I finished lamely. I wasn't really sure myself why Potter's behavior bothered me so much, except that it made me feel jumpy and tense, like it was all just the calm before the storm.

"I don't see why it's such a big deal," Mary said. "After all, didn't you want him to leave you alone?"

"Yes, but—" I started, when a distraction arrived in the form of our schedules, which zoomed magically down the tables from McGonagall's hands, stopping in front of their owners. Scanning mine, I saw that our first class after breakfast was—

"Charms!" I jumped as a squeaky voice issued from the paper in my hands. "Break! Transfiguration! Lunch!" The voice continued to announce my schedule, and when I turned my attention to the rest of the Hall, I could hear all the other Gryffindors' schedules doing the same. Everyone's except . . .

"Potter," I growled. He and Black were sniggering into their cornflakes as everyone stared at confusion at their schedules. Peter looked on half in awe, half in delight, and Remus seemed to be fighting back a grin.

I sighed, surprising myself a little when it came out sounding almost relieved. At least this was proof that Potter hadn't done a complete one-eighty. "Immature pricks," I muttered.

"To be fair, it's not as bad as some of the stuff they've done over the years," Mary pointed out.

"Yes, but it's also only the first day; they've only begun their—God, this is so annoying!" I burst out, shaking my schedule as though that might shut it up. The shrill voice continuing to rattle off my classes was starting to give me a headache.

"Here, maybe if we just—" Mary pulled out her wand and directed it at her own talking schedule. "_Silencio_," she commanded. Nothing. She looked up at me and shrugged. "Well, it was worth a try."

I glanced back at the Marauders, who seemed to have gained control of their laughter and were now nonchalantly eating breakfast as though nothing out of the ordinary was happening around them. Which, for them, it wasn't—pranking _was _their norm. As he had the night before, Potter suddenly looked up, meeting my eyes. See what I mean about radar? Anyway, he gave me a small smirk, tipped an invisible hat to me, and turned back to his mates.

Rolling my eyes—seriously, with the number of times Potter had caused me to do that over the years, I was surprised they hadn't gotten stuck—I pulled a spare piece of parchment and a quill out of my bag. "Well, there's a slightly less simple but still effective solution to this," I announced to Mary. And with that, I quickly copied my schedule onto the blank parchment, rolled it up, and thrust everything back in my bag.

"Ingenious," she said, grinning at me before pulling out her own parchment and quill and copying my actions. Then, as one, we both shredded our original schedules, which thankfully put a stop to the annoying voice.

I looked back at Potter, ready to shoot him a triumphant, ha-ha-I-beat-your-little-prank-so-there type of look, but discovered that he was once again partially blocked from view by Chloe. _Honestly, are they on some sort of snogging schedule?_

When I voiced these thoughts to Mary, she snorted with laughter. "I don't know, Lily, maybe it's just the excitement of a new relationship. I know Andrew and I spent more time snogging than talking when we first started dating."

_Okay, I did _not _need to know that. _"Yes, but you didn't do it in public for everyone to see! I mean, that"—I gestured towards Potter and Chloe—"is disgusting."

"Well, they'll probably calm down over the next week or so. You can make it that long, right?" she asked with mock concern.

"I don't know," I muttered, half serious. Checking my watch, I added, "Well, we better head to Charms."

The day started off normally enough—well, besides the schedule incident at breakfast. However, most of the students had employed a method similar to mine and copied their schedules out elsewhere, though there was still the odd student whose bag continued to emit muffled squeaking noises. As Professor Flitwick's voice matched the charmed schedules' for squeakiness, he didn't notice the distracting noise, but almost the instant our Transfiguration lesson began, McGonagall stopped and demanded that someone silence 'that infuriating screeching.'

The offending student, Hufflepuff Darren Nesbaum, mumbled an embarrassed apology, crumpled up his schedule, and, looking around the room, finally settled on tossing it out the open window.

I heard a snort from behind me and turned to see all four Marauders grinning stupidly at their desks, heads bent in an attempt to hide their guilty faces from McGonagall. Sighing, I returned my attention to the lecture. There was a time when I would have turned them in, but I'd matured beyond being a nosy tattletail. Besides, it was far too much work keeping track of all the stupid things they did.

After lunch, I said goodbye to Mary and we went our separate ways for afternoon class. I had Arithmancy and she had Herbology—I'd never really fancied taking care of odd and often vicious plants, and had happily dropped the subject after last year. As I headed down the first floor corridor to my classroom, I noticed Potter and Chloe heading striding hand-in-hand towards me. I wrinkled my nose. _At least they're not snogging this time, _I thought. As they drew nearer, I surveyed Chloe closely. I was curious what type of girl could actually stand to date Potter. _Okay, probably a lot of girls could, _I amended, knowing his reputation among the girls at our school. _Merlin knows why._

Distracted as I was watching Chloe as she passed, I wasn't paying attention to where I was going and suddenly _wham_! I ran smack into an open door.

"Ouch!" I cried, rubbing my nose. Behind me, I heard Potter's laughter, and cringed at the thought that it was probably directed at me. I hated when I made an idiot out of myself in front of him. Not because I gave a rat's fart what he thought of me, but because he didn't need my help in coming up with things to tease me about.

"You okay, Lily?" I looked up to see Andrew watching me in concern. He was in Arithmancy as well—in fact, that's how he and Mary had met. She and I had been working on homework in the library when Andrew'd come up to ask me for help with Arithmancy. Needless to say, neither he nor Mary had gotten much work done that day. Neither had I, come to think of it.

"Yeah, fine," I muttered, embarrassed. "I just wasn't watching where I was going, that's all."

We entered our Arithmancy classroom and sat down in the middle of the second row. "So," I said, trying to sound casual, "what do you know about Chloe Sanders?" I was hoping that since Andrew played Quidditch as well, he might know something about her.

"You mean James's new girlfriend?" he asked.

I resisted the urge to wrinkle my nose again. "Yes."

"Er, not much. She's a wicked good Seeker, though."

_Of course she is. Looking perfect wasn't enough—she has to be good at Quidditch as well. _This girl was starting to sound more and more perfect for Potter the more I learned about her. What with their good looks—well, most people thought Potter was handsome, though I couldn't really see how they came to that conclusion—and Quidditch talent, they were like the wizard version of the prom king and queen.

"Is she smart?" I asked, not really sure why that mattered. But for some reason, I was hoping Chloe was just some blonde bimbo, so I could scoff at Potter for dating her.

"Dunno," Andrew answered. "But she's got to be at least passing all her classes to stay on the team, doesn't she?"

_Damn._ "Yeah, I guess."

"Just curious, but why are you so interested?" Andrew asked. "I thought you hated James."

I frowned at him. "I do. I'm just trying to gather some dirt on his girlfriend so I can taunt him about it—I've got to look for ammunition against him anywhere I can, you know," I added with a smirk, which quickly faded back to a frown. "But she appears to be annoyingly perfect."

Andrew nodded, still looking unconvinced. At that moment, Professor Epsilon entered to begin the day's lesson, and I turned away from Andrew, still wondering at his reaction. I didn't know what he was so confused about; why else would I be asking about Chloe? Suddenly, I let out a little gasp. Merlin, he didn't think I was _jealous_,did he? I didn't know whether to laugh at the ridiculousness of such a notion or gag at the repulsive thought of dating Potter.

After a rather interesting first day, I was looking forward to relaxing in the common room that night—in a strange onset of kindness, our professors hadn't assigned much homework yet. However, it appeared fate wasn't going to let me off that easily. As Mary and I were leaving the Great Hall, Severus hurried up to us. I tensed as I saw him approach. I'd effectively avoided him all day, despite the number of classes we had together. I'd been quite proud of this achievement, but apparently my luck had just run out.

"Lily, can I talk to you?" Severus asked, barely moving his lips in that strange way he had of trying to block other people out of our conversations.

Mary raised her eyebrows at me, and I sighed and nodded for her to go on ahead. "See you in a bit," I muttered resignedly.

Severus watched her start up the stairs to the first floor and then turned back to me. "Look—" he started.

"I hope you're not going to try and apologize again," I interrupted shortly, crossing my arms defensively across my chest.

Sev shut his mouth, looking at me with a mixture of surprise and anger.

"Oh, my God, you _were _going to try apologizing again!" I said in disbelief. "I told you already that nothing you do or say is going to make a difference—and I was serious, much as you apparently don't want to believe that!"

"But—" Severus started again, though this time he stopped talking before I said anything. A look of absolute loathing jumped into his eyes, which were currently fixed at a point over my shoulder. I grimaced at the blatant hatred, knowing there was only one person that could cause Sev to look like that . . .

And sure enough, Potter suddenly entered my field of vision. He was, to my surprise, alone, and even more shockingly, not paying any attention to Severus or me. I'd started to get used to his odd avoidance of me, but he'd never missed a chance to hex Sev, or at least insult him.

Apparently, Severus had noticed his strange behavior as well. "What, not even going to try and hex me, Potter?" he called out tauntingly, and I was unpleasantly reminded of my words to Potter on the train. Although, I think I would have fallen over in shock if Potter had answered Severus in the same way he'd answered my inquiry about his lack of date proposals.

Mind, what he _did _do still almost made me fall over in shock. It certainly caused my jaw to drop open in surprise.

Potter looked around at Sev's words, surveyed the two of us briefly, shrugged, and turned away again.

For some reason, his lack of action seemed to infuriate Severus more than if Potter _had _tried to hex him. He whipped out his wand and pointed it at Potter's back.

Coming out of my shock, I grabbed Sev's arm, causing the curse he'd aimed at Potter to fly wide. "What the hell are you doing?" I demanded.

Potter had turned around again, and now there was anger in his gaze as he glared at Severus. But he still didn't say anything, and after a few tense moments of silence, Sev yanked his arm out of my grasp and strode towards the dungeons, knocking roughly into Potter's shoulder as he passed. I might have imagined it, but I thought I saw Potter roll his eyes at Severus's retreating back. His gaze met mine briefly, and something unreadable flashed through his eyes. To my embarrassment, I felt my cheeks redden, and was relieved when Potter turned without saying anything and began to climb the stairs out of the Entrance Hall.

I wasn't sure why I was embarrassed about stopping Sev from cursing Potter. I mean, it's what any descent person would have done, right? Just because I loathed him didn't mean I thought Potter deserved to be hexed when his back was turned. _Even though he's done the same to others, especially Sev, plenty of times, _a voice in the back of my head argued.

_But not this time,_ I argued back as I finally started towards the marble staircase myself. I'd barely been at Hogwarts for twenty-four hours, and already Potter had confused me more than he had in the previous five years put together.

Looking ahead, I saw Potter slow his stride slightly and glance back at me. Quickly, I stooped and pretended to do up my shoelace. I heard Potter chuckle quietly and his footsteps resumed. I was blushing again as I straightened, and this time I waited until Potter had turned a corner before continuing on my way. Again, I couldn't explain my behavior, except to say as I had before that Potter acting so out of character unsettled me, and I didn't fancy walking the seven flights to Gryffindor tower with him at the moment. Not that I'd ever fancied such a thing, really.

When I entered the common room, Potter was seated near the fire with Peter, Sirius and Remus—I wondered briefly whether he'd eaten dinner alone—and I skirted past them quickly on my way to where Mary sat by the far wall. Watching Potter out of the corner of my eye, I saw that he didn't even look up as I passed.

"So, what did he want?" Mary demanded as soon as I sat down.

"Who?" I asked, momentarily confused.

Mary looked at me like I was insane. "Snape!"

"Oh, right," I replied. My recent thoughts about Potter had distracted me from my brief encounter from Severus. I had to stop letting Potter get into my head like that. "He just tried to apologize again," I said, rolling my eyes. "But I didn't let him."

"Git," Mary declared darkly, and I smiled in appreciation of her solidarity. "I mean, honestly," she continued, "what does he expect? You just don't _do _that to someone you proclaim to be friends with. But I am sorry, Lily," she said seriously.

"Thanks, but it's fine. Really." I was starting to feel a little choked up—not thinking about my lost friendship with Sev; I'd come to terms with that—but because of Mary's sympathy. She'd never really approved of our friendship—no one had, come to that—so it meant a lot that she was being so nice about it now.

"Anyway, enough about that," I said, clearing my throat in what I hoped wasn't a too obvious I'm-holding-back-tears way. Opening my bag, I took out my Transfiguration book. "What are you—"

I was interrupted when a folded bit of parchment fell onto my open book. Glancing around, I saw Potter walking past my chair. He glanced back and smiled briefly at me before moving on to rejoin his friends by the fire.

"What was that about?" Mary asked me.

I shrugged. "Search me," I said, unfolding the parchment. Written on it were two simple words: _Thanks, Evans._

"Thanks for what?" Mary asked curiously, craning her neck to read the note.

"No idea," I said, but I could feel myself start to redden at the lie.

Mary narrowed her eyes shrewdly at me. "Lily, what are you hiding?" she said, a warning note in her voice.

_I really need to learn how to lie better_. Sighing I reluctantly told her about the other part of my meeting with Severus. When I'd finished Mary was grinning in an all-too-knowing way. "Defending James? How cute."

I kicked her leg lightly. "Come on, I wasn't going to let Sev just hex him like that. It doesn't mean anything."

"So what about all this I hear about you inquiring after his girlfriend?" Mary continued, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

_Of course Andrew would tell her about our conversation. Prick. _"Like I told Andrew," I said, glaring in what I estimated to be the direction of the Ravenclaw common room, "I was merely asking so that—"

"—you could have something to annoy James with, I know," Mary said pleasantly. "But as your best friend and a girl, I still say there's something else there."

"Well, there's not."

"I always thought you had a little crush on him," Mary continued, as though I hadn't spoken.

"What?" I exclaimed. She'd never confessed such a suspicion to me before. Good thing too, as I probably would have throttled her for even suggesting such a thing. I was having trouble not doing so now. "The day I admit to having a crush on James Potter is the day hell freezes over," I pronounced.

I hadn't realized how loudly I'd spoken until I heard Potter call over, "That can be arranged."

I whipped around to glare at him, not missing the fact that Chloe was no where to be seen. He flashed his characteristic smirk back at me before turning away again. _God, he is so bipolar! One minute he ignores me, and the next he's flirting with me like nothing's changed! _"He can't flirt with me—he has a girlfriend now!" I hissed at Mary in indignation, whether on my part or Chloe's, I couldn't really say.

"That honestly doesn't mean anything, Lily," Mary said, still grinning. "Besides, I thought you were determined to hate Chloe—now you're getting all defensive on her behalf?"

"I didn't—that's not—" I let out a loud sigh of frustration. "I'm going to the library," I announced, wanting to get away from Mary and her teasing grins.

Her laughter followed me out of the common room. _Some friend._

Things settled down a little over the rest of the week. Potter didn't try to flirt with me again—though I couldn't help but notice that he and Chloe were now together almost constantly. Severus kept his distance as well, and Mary stopped teasing me about Potter—a good choice on both their parts, if they valued their lives.

Classes began to pick up; the teachers justified the copious amounts of homework they assigned us as 'preparation for N.E.W.T. year.' Though, as Sirius pointed out, we were two years away from those exams, so there couldn't possibly be a reason to start preparing us now. Much as I hated it, I privately agreed with him. If this was what sixth year was like, I dreaded to think how much pressure we'd all be under next year.

Our new Defense professor was proof that size is no judge of character. Tiny and harmless-looking as she was, she was shaping up to be one of our hardest professors this year. Though it was obvious she knew her stuff—a welcome change from some professors we'd had in the past—she was also very demanding in terms of the amount of work she expected from us. Even Potter and Black, the brightest students in our year (just one more infuriating thing about them), could be found making rare trips to the library during the first couple weeks of term. Of course, no amount of homework could stop them from causing mayhem as per usual. In fact, the added stress this year probably only accelerated what happened on the third Friday in September.

As Mary and I entered the Great Hall, tired and yawning, we were immediately jolted into wakefulness by the six foot high, sparkling orange lettering displayed along the back wall above the teacher's table: _Good morning! Here's a little sparkle to brighten your day!_

"Well, that's nice of them," Mary said.

I looked at her strangely. "Bit distracting, though. Not to mention so bright it makes your eyes sting a little to look at it." Though I had to admit, the Marauders' latest prank—because there was no doubt who would have executed such a thing—was as harmless as their first had been. And it was, actually, sort of funny.

Any kindly feelings I had towards the prank quickly vanished when McGonagall came up to me as I was finishing my toast. "Miss Evans," she began, "you have no doubt noticed the . . . message at the front of the Hall. While it is not, on the whole, harmful, I'm afraid we cannot allow it to remain there."

I nodded, a bit confused as to why she was telling me all this.

"It appears that whoever left it has made it un-vanishable, and therefore it must be removed by hand, which, I'm afraid, is where you come in. As the other teachers and myself must soon begin lessons for the day, we are asking that the prefects along with the Head Boy and Girl stay behind to clean it up."

"Of course, Professor," I agreed politely, but inside I was fuming. Not at McGonagall, though it was a little unfair that the prefects always had to do things like this. I mean, it made sense—we were supposed to be responsible enough to take care of it in a timely manner and still be able to catch up on the class we missed. No, I was angry at stupid Potter and his stupid friends. Even Remus, who I normally exempted from the hatred I often directed at the Marauders, this time was at fault in my book. I took some pleasure in the fact that he'd be cleaning up the mess right alongside me.

He must have realized I'd be angry, because he greeted me a little sheepishly when I joined him and the rest of the prefects under the giant lettering after breakfast.

"So, you agreed to this even though you knew you'd probably be forced into dealing with it later?" I asked him rather shortly as we grabbed two sets of sponges and buckets that McGonagall had provided.

Remus shrugged. "I was overruled," he said lightly, but I thought I saw his jaw tighten the tiniest bit.

I softened towards him considerably upon hearing that he'd at least tried to prevent this. "Well, you'll just have to—"

"Sorry about this," Potter's voice interrupted from behind me.

I almost dropped my sponge in shock. Was James Potter actually _apologizing _to me for the prank? That would mark an all-time new level of oddity in—

_Oh. _I turned and saw Potter clap Remus on the shoulder bracingly. _He wasn't talking to me—he was talking to Remus. Well, now I feel stupid._

"Sometimes being the greatest pranksters in the school has its downfalls," Potter was saying with mock sympathy.

Remus threw his sponge at him, but Potter dodged it and left the Hall, laughing.

"You know, sometimes I really hate him," he muttered.

I didn't answer, still preoccupied by why I'd automatically assumed Potter had been talking to me._ Maybe Mary's right—maybe I am paranoid._

_

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_**Thanks for reading!**_  
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	4. Change Your Mind

**A/N: I'm back with another chapter for all you lovely readers! A special thanks to last week's reviewers: Silver Scorpion, SecretBlack, Sam-EvansBlue, defying-gravity269, 00Bookworm00, kanjimaru67, and Seeker!**

**Happy Friday, and happy reading :)**

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Chapter 3: Change Your Mind

"As this is a particularly difficult potion, I am going to put you into pairs today to work on it," Slughorn announced in class the next Thursday.

I automatically moved closer to Mary, but Slughorn continued, "Miss Macdonald, if you would be so kind as to work with Mr. Mackey"—Mary and Andrew grinned at each other—"Miss Evans, you and Mr. Potter will be partners for the day—"

_What? _Slughorn continued to pair people off, but I was no longer paying attention. _This is some sort of cruel joke, right? He doesn't actually expect Potter and I to work together, does he? That is just asking for disaster. _I turned to Mary in dismay, only to find her grinning at me.

"Have fun," she said sweetly before moving off to join Andrew at his table.

I glared after her. Why did she get assigned to work with her boyfriend, while I got—

"Hey, Evans." Potter took the seat beside me.

"Potter," I said curtly. He looked at me for a moment, then started unpacking his Potions ingredients, smirking.

_Is everything a joke for him? _I thought angrily, lighting a fire beneath my cauldron with my wand. I looked around; I'd rather be working with anyone else but Potter. Well, maybe not Black, but—I frowned, suddenly realizing that one of Potter's entourage was missing. "Hey, where's Remus?"

"Sick," Potter answered breezily, apparently unconcerned for his friend's well-being. I barely refrained from rolling my eyes.

"So, do you want to start with this first part, and I'll work on chopping these up?" Potter asked, indicating the valerian roots we'd need for step five.

I stared at him. _Wait, he's actually going to be cooperative, and not just try to annoy me as much as possible during the next hour? _"Er," I said, slightly thrown. "Okay, sure."

I continued to sneak glances at him as we started to work. Finally, he looked at me, frowning. "What?" he asked.

"Nothing," I said quickly. "It's just, you're . . . never mind."

Potter shrugged. "Okay," he said easily. After a couple more seconds of silence, he continued, "Well, I know you prefer to work alone, but—"

"How do you know that?" I asked.

Potter grinned. "You roll your eyes anytime one of our professors tells us to pair off."

I raised an eyebrow. "And do you always make a habit of watching me during class?" I grimaced inwardly as soon as I'd spoken—I'd pretty much set him up to make an annoyingly flirty reply. But something he'd said was nagging at the back of my mind, distracting me.

"I _have _had the same classes as you for five years, Evans. I bet anyone in this room has made that observation about you."

I opened my mouth to reply when I suddenly realized what had caught my attention. _'Well, I know you prefer to work alone' . . . Alone! At the end of last year, I told Potter to leave me alone, and . . . _I frowned. _Is _that_ why he's been acting so strangely this year? _"You're trying to leave me alone?" I said aloud, not realizing how odd that would sound, since Potter hadn't heard my previous train of thoughts—er, at least, I hoped he hadn't.

"I—er, what?" Potter asked, looking completely bewildered.

I blushed. "I—it's just, I've been trying to figure out why you've been acting so . . . so . . . not like you, and I think I figured it out. At the end of last year, when I told you to leave me alone—"

Potter suddenly burst out laughing. "What? That's not—and what do you mean, I've been acting differently?"

"Well, you haven't—I mean, you're dating Chloe now, but . . . you know," I babbled.

Potter raised an eyebrow. "Evans, you're really not making any sense."

I sighed in frustration. "What I mean is, all the flirting and asking me out, and all the times I asked you to stop . . . why wait until now to actually do it?"

"Don't flatter yourself, Evans," Potter replied, almost contemptuously. "Not everything I do revolves around you."

"Okay, so what if I'd ever said yes? You're telling me you wouldn't have actually gone out with me?"

Potter shrugged. "You were easy to annoy—it was kind of funny."

I was so offended by this that I didn't notice he hadn't really answered my question. "So, you just did it all for your own amusement? Did you ever consider what would have happened if I'd started to fall for you? How I would have felt if I found out you'd just been using me for entertainment?"  
Potter had the good grace to look slightly abashed at this. But he soon ruined it by grinning. "Well, I'm fairly certain hell's still nice and toasty, so we're good there."

It took me a moment to realize what he meant. When I did, I flushed again, both with embarrassment and anger.

Before I could formulate a reply, Potter continued, "Look, we should finish this—we've only got forty-five minutes of class left."

We worked in silence for the rest of the lesson.

**00000000**

"No way," Mary said emphatically when I told her about Potter's and my conversation in Potions. We were sitting in the common room after dinner, and the Marauders were nowhere in sight—I wouldn't have risked telling Mary otherwise. "He definitely liked you—you'd have to be blind not to notice that."

"I don't know; I wouldn't put it past him to have just been doing it all 'for fun,' or however he put it. You have to admit, it definitely sounds like something he'd do."

But Mary shook her head so that her brown curls whipped across her face. "Nope, I refuse to give in on this one."

"Fine, you can question him next time," I said with a sigh, turning to stare out the window. I certainly wasn't going to broach the subject again. It had angered me that he could be so cavalier about the reasons behind his actions. Not on my behalf so much as for women in general. I mean, who treats people like that? I was also highly embarrassed that I'd misinterpreted everything for the past five years. I had to admit, though, it did make more sense for it to all have been a joke—no normal person would willingly endure the number of rejections I'd given Potter.

Realizing I'd been absently watching the full moon track across the sky for the past quarter of an hour, I jolted myself out of my thoughts and reluctantly started in on the pile of homework before me.

**00000000**

As pathetic as it was, I sort of tried to avoid Potter in the next couple of days. Not that I'd ever actively sought out his company, but the more I thought about our Potions conversation, the more embarrassed I became. What the hell had made me ask if he was trying to leave me alone in the first place? _God, he must think I'm some sort of spastic, paranoid, crazy woman. Not that I care what he thinks about me. Unless . . . Merlin, I didn't make it seem like I'd _liked _him, had I? Urgh, I hope he doesn't interpret it like that. Though with his big head, I wouldn't dismiss it as a possibility._

Upon further consideration, I'd made Mary promise not to talk to Potter about it—I didn't want to remind him about my cringe-worthy comments any more than I had to. Nevertheless, she remained determined to prove that he'd lied about not ever meaning it when he asked me out. When I asked how exactly she planned to go about this without talking to Potter, she merely assured me she 'had her ways.' So I gave up and left her to it. When Mary got a mission into her head, there wasn't anything that would make her quit until she'd fulfilled it.

As to my own mission to avoid Potter, I gave up on that fairly quickly. It was basically impossible, considering we had most of our classes together, ate in the same place, and lived in the same House. Luckily, he'd gone back to ignoring me, for the most part. Sometimes when we passed in the hall, he'd smirk at me as though we were sharing a private joke, though I got the distinct feeling he was mocking me.

Unforeseeably and unbelievably, I found someone who now annoyed me more than Potter: Chloe. I mean, this girl was ridiculous. It was like she had some sort of life or death need to be with Potter at all times. Honestly, I don't know how she survived her classes without him. If she even went to them, that is. Because she was always outside of our classrooms waiting for Potter when our lesson was over. And I mean _every time._ I don't think I ever saw her miss one. She'd greet him with a longer-than-was-strictly-necessary-since-you-just-saw-him kiss and then they'd stroll off hand in hand. I started staring at the floor as I left the room in order to avoid this nauseating sight—especially if it was the class right before or after lunch.

Even more unbearable was watching the two of them in the common room. If they weren't engaging in an intense snogging session—I still didn't see why they had to subject the rest of us to those—they were talking, and Chloe was fawning over everything Potter said and laughing loudly at every joke he made, even if it wasn't remotely funny. Which, in my opinion, applied to all of them, but it wasn't just my bias against Potter that made me shoot a dirty look her way every time Chloe burst out laughing. Looking around at others in the room, I could tell most of them were annoyed with the couple's antics as well.

Of further interest were the reactions of Potter's friends. Well, more one friend in particular. Peter didn't really seem to know what to make of Chloe, while Remus appeared to tolerate her, much as he did whenever Potter and Black were being particularly raucous. But Black absolutely loathed Chloe. Or so it appeared to me. It used to be you only had to find Potter or Black and you'd find the other. But now . . . I caught myself feeling a little sorry for Black—after all, even he didn't deserve to be replaced by someone as revolting as Chloe.

"Oh my God, it's not that funny, _please _shut up," Mary muttered not-so-quietly one evening as Chloe's laughter rang out in the common room for the umpteenth time.

I snorted, glancing over at the group by the fire. Potter was talking animatedly to Chloe, who had an adoring smile plastered on her face. Unable to stomach looking at them for too long, my eyes slid over to Sirius, who was glaring at the pair with a hatred that surprised me. He must have sensed me looking at him, because he suddenly glanced up and our eyes met. Black raised his eyes briefly to the ceiling, grimacing at me. Without thinking, I smiled sympathetically back at him. _Oh my God, _I thought, quickly looking away again. _We just bonded over something. Okay, Potter and his girlfriend are officially poisoning my mind—I have to leave. _"I think I'm going to head to the library, because otherwise I might murder one or both of them in about three seconds," I said to Mary, jerking my thumb back at Potter and Chloe.

"Okay—I may have to join you in a minute," Mary said, rolling her eyes.

I slung my bag over my shoulder and exited the common room. Taking a deep breath, I let it out in a long sigh, reveling in the quiet of the corridor as I started towards the library.

I'd barely been there fifteen minutes when none other than Potter and Chloe came in. _Really? _I thought, staring at them in disbelief. _Seriously, what did I do in my former life to deserve this?_

Chloe said something to Potter that I couldn't hear and walked away down one of the stacks. Potter glanced around the room, his gaze sweeping over me . . .

I quickly ducked my head. _Don't come over here, don't come over here, don't—_

"Fancy seeing you here."

I took a fortifying breath and looked up. _I will not hex him into oblivion, _I commanded myself sternly. "No, not really—of the two of us, Potter, I'm the more likely to be in the library."

Potter inclined his head towards me. "A fair point," he said. "Well, I couldn't work in the common room—too loud."

I looked at him sharply to see if he was joking. Unbelievably, he actually looked serious. I snorted in derision.

"What?" Potter asked, frowning at me.

I gave him a withering look. "You _do _realize it was you and Chloe making most of the noise."

Potter's frown deepened. "Really? Well, maybe that's why. . . ."

He trailed off, and I just shook my head. "I suppose you're actually here to do work?" I asked before I could stop myself.

Potter smirked. "What else would one do in a library?" he asked innocently.

I rolled my eyes. _As if they didn't come here to have a good snog in private. Honestly that's got to be the only reason he's dating her. _"She's really not your type."

I didn't realize I'd spoken this last bit out loud until I looked up to see Potter staring at me bemusedly. "Sorry?" he said.

_I should put a permanent sticking charm on my lips, because apparently I can't be trusted to keep my big mouth shut, _I thought ruefully. "Nothing," I muttered, mentally crossing my fingers that he would just let it go.

Too much to hope for with someone like Potter, however. He sat down across from me and asked, "And what exactly is my type, Evans?" He definitely sounded amused now.

"I—that is—" I was saved the necessity of answering by the arrival of Chloe.

"Found it," she announced, holding up a book. Her eyes flicked between me and Potter, a slightly frown creasing her brow.

"Great," Potter said, standing. "Well, see you around, Evans. Oh, and let me know if you come up with an answer," he added with a wink, slinging an arm around Chloe as they walked away.

I let out a long sigh as they turn a corner out of sight. _Why can't I seem to stop making an idiot of myself in front of Potter this year? _I thought irritably. Though it _had _been kind of amusing to see Chloe's reaction this time. She'd actually looked a little offended that Potter had been talking to me. I nearly laughed out loud when I wondered if she was jealous—it would almost be worth it to pretend to flirt with Potter just to mess with her head. But coupling that with our recent interactions would only make it seem like I fancied him, and I was absolutely not willing to allow that just to annoy Chloe.

Just then, Mary entered the library, looked around, and strode over to my table. "Hi," she said with a sigh, plopping down into the seat Potter had just vacated.

"Hey," I replied, moving my books to give her more room. "I didn't expect to see you here now that Potter and Chloe have left."

"Well, it turns out I couldn't concentrate even with them gone, so—hang on, how did you know they weren't in the common room anymore?"

"Because they're here."

Mary's mouth dropped open. "Really? Oh, come on," she said, annoyed. "I swear, if they bother us—"

"Don't worry, you've already missed the interruption," I assured her dryly. I proceeded to fill her in on my latest Potter encounter.

Mary snorted with laughter when I shared my thoughts on Chloe's reaction. "God, I hope she was jealous. You know what you should do, you should—"

"—pretend to flirt with Potter just to piss her off?" I finished.

Mary frowned. "How did you know I was about to say that?"

"Because I briefly considered it myself."

"And? Why not?"

I looked at her disbelievingly. "No way—it's not worth it for Potter to think—and don't start on your 'secret crush' theory," I said warningly as I saw the evil grin that was spreading across Mary's face.

"I wasn't going to say anything," she replied mildly, rearranging her features into an innocent expression.

"Right," I said sarcastically.

"But I do think it's sweet that you're concerned James might be dating the wrong person," she added, the evil smile returning. "It's nice that you're looking out for his well-being."

I glared at her. "I'm not concerned on his behalf; I'm just looking out for everyone else's sanity. You can't argue against the fact that things were better when they weren't dating."

"Unfortunately, no," Mary consented, wrinkling her nose.

**00000000**

The following Saturday marked the first Quidditch game of the season: Gryffindor versus Slytherin. The excitement in the air at breakfast was palpable—not that I contributed to it in any way; Saturday game days were just another day to me.

"Come on, Lily," Mary wheedled, "you have to go to at least one game before we leave here."

"And I have just under two years in which to do so," I countered, spooning eggs onto my plate.

Mary sighed. "Well, what are you going to do instead?" she asked, switching tactics.

I shrugged. "Probably catch up on some work."

My friend rolled her eyes. "Really? That is just—"

"Sad?" Potter's voice came from behind me. My eyes narrowed as I turned to look at him. _Honestly, how could I have ever thought he was trying to leave me alone? _"I agree, Macdonald," Potter continued. Turning to me, he said, "How is it that you've never been to a single match, Evans?"

"I just don't like Quidditch, all right?" I said a little defensively, though I wasn't sure why I felt I had to defend myself to Potter.

"If it's because you don't understand the rules, I could explain them to you," Potter offered with a smirk, as though that would have some bearing on my opinion of Quidditch.

"No, I know the rules. They're not that hard to understand—which is why you can play the game, I'm sure," I said sweetly.

Mary snorted in amusement, but Potter continued to smirk at me, unfazed.

"James, you coming?" Chloe's voice rang out from along the table, where the Gryffindor team had risen and started for the Entrance Hall.

"Yeah, I'll be there in a second," Potter called back. Turning back to me, he added, "Just because you're rubbish at something, Evans, doesn't mean you can't enjoy watching other people do it."

I was so shocked and insulted that I couldn't even formulate a reply. Potter's smirk morphed into a satisfied smile. He shouldered his broom and followed Chloe and the rest of his teammates from the Great Hall.

I turned back to Mary. "Well, now I'm definitely not going."

**00000000**

I spent the morning in the common room and actually did get a lot of work done without the usual distractions. After a couple hours of solid work, I decided I needed a break. Stretching, I walked over to the window and squinted towards the Quidditch pitch. I could just make out the small, fast-moving specks that were the players. That was another thing about Quidditch games—they could go on indefinitely. No thank you.

I left the common room and wandered around the corridors, no particular destination in mind. _The castle is actually kind of creepy without anyone in it,_ I thought absently, shivering slightly. Caught up as I was in thoughts of dark corners and hidden passages where anyone could be hiding, the sound of voices coming from a nearby classroom nearly made me jump out of my skin. _Merlin, get a grip, Lily, _I chided myself, moving closer to see who else shared my dislike of Quidditch matches. However, before I'd reached a point where I could see far enough into room to make out any of the people within it, I heard a voice I recognized only too well.

"—if I want to do it?" Severus was saying.

"In three weeks." The gravely voice of Anton Mulciber floated out to me. I shivered again—he seriously freaked me out. "But what do you mean 'if'?" he continued harshly.

I inched closer, heart pounding. I didn't know why their conversation was making me so anxious, but something about it wasn't right.

"I've got some things to—look, I don't have to explain myself to you," Severus growled back.

"Fine, but he'll know if you're not completely committed."

Severus suddenly appeared in the gap between the door and the doorframe. I knew I should move, but I was rooted to the spot.

"Obviously," Severus scoffed. "I'm not—" he suddenly glanced around and stopped abruptly as our eyes locked. He swore as he strode out of the door. Grabbing my arm, he demanded, "What did you hear?"

The hard look in his dark eyes scared me. Mulciber had followed him out of the room, and when I glanced down, I saw him fingering his wand. _Shit! _I thought in a panic. _How did I get myself into this?_ Trying to stay calm, I made myself meet Sev's eyes and said, "Nothing."

He snorted. "You're lying. What did you hear?" he asked again, more slowly and dangerously this time, shaking me slightly for emphasis.

"I don't know!" I replied, trying to pull my arm from his grasp. But he only tightened his grip—I was starting to lose feeling in my fingers. "I have no idea what you were talking about, I swear!"

Severus stared at me for a few seconds before finally releasing my arm with a sigh. He looked more normal, but that didn't stop me from quickly backing up several steps. I rubbed the place where his hand had been.

"You shouldn't be sneak—" Severus started.

"I shouldn't be? _I _shouldn't be?" I asked, my voice rising, anger at what he'd just done to me winning out over my fear. "You're the one having secret meetings in an abandoned classroom while the rest of the school's at a Quidditch game! And if that wasn't suspicious enough, your reaction just now pretty much confirms that you're up to something—something—bad. Even if I don't know exactly what it is, I could still tell—"

"You'll regret it if you do, Mudblood," Mulciber cut in roughly, his wand suddenly pointing between my eyes.

At that moment, the sound of footsteps and laughter reached my ears. I almost fainted with relief—it seemed that the Quidditch game had ended and people were returning to their common rooms.

"Come on," Sev said, forcing Mulciber's wand down and striding away from me along the corridor. Mulciber held my eyes for a moment longer, a warning look on his face, before turning to follow Severus. They rounded the corner out of sight, but not before the crowd entered the corridor, Potter at its head. He was grinning, but as he caught sight of Severus's retreating form, he frowned. His gaze quickly shifted to me, and as he drew level with the abandoned classroom, he said to Chloe, "I'll catch up with you in a minute."

I thought I saw her roll her eyes in frustration as she passed me. That would have amused me only an hour earlier, but now I barely noticed it.

"Did something—are you okay?" Potter asked.

To my horror, I felt tears prick at the back of my eyes. "I'm fine," I said shortly, hoping he wouldn't notice that my voice wobbled slightly at the end. I turned and started after the crowed of chattering students.

Potter hurried to catch up. "Well, you don't seem fine."

I glared at him. "And it's really none of your business."

"Okay, well I just thought maybe I could—"

"This doesn't automatically make you the good guy, Potter," I said, thinking of Severus. I knew that would make absolutely no sense to Potter, but I didn't care—I just wanted him to go away.

"Well, that clears things up," he said sarcastically. "Glad we've established that. I'll—"

I rounded on him. "Just . . . stop. Please."

Potter stared at me for a moment, a volley of emotions flickering through his hazel eyes so quickly I couldn't make them out. "You're not even going to try, are you?" he finally asked in a defeated voice.

"What?" I asked, frowning at him.

But he just brushed past me and disappeared around the corner.

_Paid back confusion with confusion, I guess, _I thought as I finally reached the entrance to Gryffindor tower. A loud party was already in full swing—evidently we'd won the Quidditch match. But I'd never felt less like partying in my life, and apparently, neither had Potter: he didn't show up for the rest of the day.

**

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A/N: Wow, re-reading this, Snape is rather harsh. A bit too harsh, maybe. Hmm….oh well ;)


	5. Don't Think It's Funny

**A/N: Thanks to last week's reviewers: HarryPottersBiggestFanRIMSHA, SecretBlack, Silver Scorpion, hushpuppy22, and evisawesome!**

**Okay, Lily's still sort of an annoying swot in this chapter, but I promise that is slowly changing . . . :)**

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Chapter 4: Don't Think It's Funny**

"Okay, Lily, you have to tell me what happened yesterday," Mary said the next morning during break, finally reaching the end of her patience. Being my best friend, she'd noticed something was off when I found her after the Quidditch game, but I hadn't wanted to talk about it then. She'd allowed this and kindly refrained from asking about it for the rest of the night and the first part of this morning. I knew I owed her an explanation, though, so I sighed and reluctantly told her everything, Potter included.

When I finished, Mary looked somewhere between shocked and scared. "What do you think they were talking about?" she almost whispered, surprising me by ignoring the Potter-related part of the conversation.

I shrugged. "No idea. Nothing good, I'm sure."

Mary raised her eyebrows. "Yes, since they basically attacked you for overhearing it, I'd say that's a fair assumption."

I shivered again, remembering the look in Severus's eyes when he'd questioned me. He'd never been cruel to me, but now that we weren't friends, I guess anything was fair game.

"You _were _a little rude to James, though," Mary added, almost as an afterthought.

_And there it is. _I frowned at her. "Well, it wasn't any of his business," I protested, repeating what I'd said to Potter. "And I really didn't want to talk about it, especially not with him."

"Okay," Mary said mildly, shrugging.

It's funny how people seeming not to care about something often makes you realize that they actually _do _care more than if they got really passionate or angry about it. And in this case, it was starting to make me feel guilty about what I'd said to Potter. He'd tried to be helpful, and I'd just shot him down. Come to think of it, it had been very uncharacteristic of him to show concern for my well-being—_well, just add it to the list. Though this time it was uncharacteristic in a nice way, instead of just being confusing or unsettling. Of course, with the pattern things are following this year, he'll probably be back to his same old annoying self by tomorrow._

**OOOOOOOO**

And in fact, he was, with a vengeance.

Mary and I were walking out of the Great Hall at breakfast Monday morning, and I was talking to her about the first Hogsmeade weekend that was coming up.

"I always love the first visit of the year, because it—" SPLAT! Something wet hit me in the back. "What the—"

SPLAT! This time I saw a balloon explode on Mary's shoulder, showering her with—

"Paint? Oh, gross!"

I twisted around to see orange paint splattered over my robes. Looking up, I saw several other people yelling in surprise as balloons full of paint rained down from . . . well, apparently thin air. As Mary and I scurried out of range of the balloons, I scanned the Entrance Hall to find the source of the chaos. Though I could see the general area it seemed to radiate from, there wasn't a soul in sight.

"What the hell?" I muttered, explaining my observations to Mary.

She shrugged. "Dunno, but it's kind of funny," she replied, grinning.

Now that we were out of the direct line of fire, I had to admit she was right. Watching everyone else attempting to dodge the balloons was rather amusing. Even better, I spotted Chloe getting hit twice in quick succession with two balloons full of bright pink paint. Mary had seen this as well, and the two of us giggled as we watched her mouth drop open in indignation. Shortly after this, the balloon fire abruptly stopped. People moved hesitantly away from the walls, and the normal traffic of students on their way to class shortly resumed, though with the addition of several brightly splotched people painfully visible among the usual mass of black.

"That's a nice color on you, Evans," a familiar voice said from behind me.

Turning, I found myself facing Potter and Black, both of whom were grinning and suspiciously paint-free. "I could give you two detention for this, you know," I said calmly, ignoring Potter's comment.

"For what, exactly?" Sirius replied innocently.

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Come on, who else would do this?" I asked, waving my arm to include the splatters of paint on the floor and the few painted people still making their way out of the Hall.

"Ah, but you never actually saw us do anything, did you?" Potter replied sweetly. "Innocent until proven guilty, remember, Evans."

"They did make it vanishable this time, though," Mary added helpfully, showing me her newly restored robes.

"Oh, how kind," I responded sarcastically, though I directed my wand at my own robes in turn. I didn't fancy going round with a great orange spot on them for the rest of the day.

At that moment, Chloe joined our group. She was glaring furiously at Potter. "That was not funny," she said harshly, pointing to her pink-stained robes.

"See, we're not the only ones who know it was you," I put in smugly.

Potter ignored me and grinned at Chloe. "But don't you think they look much nicer like this? Black is just so boring."

She continued to glare at him. I sighed. "Here," I said, vanishing the paint from her robes with a flick of my wand.

Everyone stared at me in surprise. Except Chloe—she merely turned her glare on me. "What?" I said defensively.

The other three all shrugged or shook their heads. Sirius looked disgruntled, Potter seemed to be fighting back a grin, and Mary was looking at me in confusion.

I turned to Chloe, who was still glaring at me. "You're welcome," I said pointedly. When her expression didn't change, I sighed again and said, "You know, if you're not careful, your face is going to stick like that."

Sirius and Mary laughed, and even Potter snorted in amusement, though he quickly changed it to a cough. Leaving Chloe looking slightly stunned, Mary and I continued on our way to class.

"What was all that about?" Mary demanded as soon as we were out of ear shot. "I thought you were determined to hate her?"

"I never said that," I protested. "Besides, Potter was being an ass, and I am on the side of anyone on the receiving end of his prickish behavior. And that includes Chloe."

"But it was so funny seeing her all pissed off—I wanted to see how long it would take her to figure out she could just vanish the paint."

"Well, you may have noticed that what I did only made her angrier," I replied mildly. "Plus, I think the vanishability of the paint was rather beside the point in her mind. I have a feeling that Potter told her about the prank and promised she wouldn't get hit by any of it."

"So you think he lied?"

"No, my money's on Black. I don't think he likes the two of them together—honestly, I can't say I blame him, she's bloody annoying—and I'm betting he's the one who hit Chloe. Either way, Potter's definitely going to get it from her," I said, unable to stop a satisfied smile from spreading across my face at the thought.

And indeed, Potter looked much less amused when he entered our Transfiguration classroom ten minutes later. By contrast, Sirius was looking a good deal happier, though I couldn't help but notice the two sat on either side of Remus and Peter, as far apart as possible. When I glanced back at Potter halfway through class, I was shocked to see he was actually paying attention and taking notes. There was an angry frown on his face, and he seemed determined not to look at Sirius. As I faced the front again, I suddenly realized I felt a little bad for Potter. I quickly slapped myself mentally at this realization. _Pull it together, Lily, he doesn't deserve your pity._

**OOOOOOOO**

Saturday morning dawned grey and chilly, but that didn't deter the hundreds of students third year and above from making the first visit to Hogsmeade. Everyone was eager to get out of the castle, and the sixth years—yes, me included—were especially grateful to escape thoughts of homework, at least for a while. With the weather being far from pleasant, Mary's and my usual hangout, the Three Broomsticks, was more crowded than normal. We managed to find a table in the back, however, and Mary ordered three butterbeers from the bar, since Andrew was going to be joining us for the day. I'd offered to let Mary and him spend the day alone—after all, two years' worth of Hogsmeade visits had certainly made the novelty wear off a bit. But she'd insisted on including me, and honestly, I didn't mind being the third wheel with her and Andrew. I liked Andrew, and they weren't an annoyingly affectionate couple, so I never felt excluded or awkward when the three of us were together.

Just as Mary returned from the bar, Andrew entered the pub. The two of us waved him over to our table, and he greeted Mary with a kiss and smiled at me as he sat down.

"Not exactly the best weather for this, huh?" he commented.

"No, but I don't really mind spending the day in here," I replied.

"Besides, it's just nice to get out of the castle every now and then," Mary added.

"Yeah, I'm already so overwhelmed with everything and it's only October . . . Merlin, I can't even remember the date, that's how bad it is!" Andrew said.

"Come on, it's not _that _horrible," I said.

Andrew raised his eyebrows. "Maybe if you're brilliant, it's not," he muttered.

I straightened in my chair with a smug smile. "Thank you."

"Anyway," Mary said pointedly, "We did not come here to talk about school—or at least, I didn't. So, w—"

"Yes, I completely agree," Potter said from my left. I looked up into his grinning face in annoyance. "So, you all enjoying the first Hogsmeade visit? I know I—"

"What are you doing?" I interjected sharply.

"Er, making polite conversation?" Potter replied, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I think you've mistaken me for someone who cares what you have to say," I returned with a false smile.

Potter's other eyebrow joined the first on top of his forehead. "There are other people at this table, Evans," he said. "And, you may recall, I've told you that not everything I do somehow relates to you."

I sighed in frustration. "Fine. See you later," I said to Mary and Andrew.

"Wow," Potter said, standing aside as I rose from the table, "someone has a wand up her—"

"Lily," Mary interrupted, but I ignored both of them and kept walking. I didn't mind talking about school at Hogsmeade, but I did draw the line at having to deal with Potter and his arrogance on my day out.

"Lily!" I heard my name again and turned to find the source. Remus was waving at me from a table along the far wall. Glancing back to see Potter still talking to Mary and Andrew, I started towards the table. Peter and Chloe were there as well, and I wondered briefly at Sirius's conspicuous absence while at the same time ignoring the glare Chloe shot me.

"Hey, sorry to bother you—"

"Oh, trust me, Remus, you're never a source of bother for me," I assured him.

Remus's eyes flicked briefly towards the table I'd just left. "Right. So, we're on for patrol duty this Thursday, but I have to visit my family—" At this moment, Peter caused a bit of a distraction choking on his butterbeer. "You okay, Pete?" Remus asked with a smile, clapping his friend on the back.

"Fine," he said hoarsely, grinning sheepishly.

"Anyway, I don't think I'll be able to—"

"Don't worry about it, I can handle it on my own," I said. "Er, is everything okay?" I added, concerned.

"Yeah, it's just, my mum's been ill, so . . ." Remus said, clearing his throat and taking a sip of his drink.

"I'm sorry," I said, suddenly feeling guilty. I always complained about my home life to Remus, but had never thought to ask him about his.

"It's fine," Remus said, but he didn't quite meet my eyes as he spoke. "Well, thanks for covering for me, and I'm sorry for the late notice."

"Seriously, don't worry about it," I repeated. "It's really no trouble."

"Right, well, I'll let you get back to enjoying the day."

"Yeah, you—"

"Evans, if you really didn't want to talk to me, you probably shouldn't have come over to my friends' table," Potter said pleasantly from behind me.

I turned to glare at him. "I was just leaving, Potter." And I spun on my heel and marched out of the pub. I still felt embarrassed that I hadn't known anything about Remus's mother being sick. _I must seem so shallow and self-absorbed to him, _I thought ashamedly. _And yet he was the one apologizing to me about missing patrols. Plus, I didn't even get a chance to say how I hoped she'd get better soon or anything because Potter distracted me._

"Lily!" I looked back to see Mary running towards me, Andrew at her heels. Reaching me, she stopped, hands on her hips, and fixed me with a glare, "Why didn't you wait for us?"

"Sorry, I just didn't want to deal with Potter today."

"Do you ever want to deal with him?" Andrew asked in some amusement.

Before I could answer him, Mary said, "Well, you didn't have to run away like that—he left about two seconds after you did."

"He probably only left that fast because I was no longer there for him to annoy," I argued back. "And I didn't _run away_."

"Yes, you did, and—"

"Okay, let's just—does it matter?" Andrew cut in, attempting to play peacekeeper.

Mary sighed. "Not really, I suppose." She turned to me again. "But I still say you and Potter—"

"Right, thank you," I said to forestall her. I didn't really want to hear her latest theory about Potter and I, and I especially didn't want it discussed in front of Andrew. "But could you, for once, just keep your opinions to yourself?"

Mary stared at me, slightly taken aback. We hardly ever fought—well, except for the Potter debacle in fourth year—but I was nearing the end of my patience quota for the day, and I was getting a little sick of Mary's sudden need to twist every one of my encounters with Potter into evidence that I fancied him.

Andrew looked between us warily. "Er, I think I'm just going to run into Scrivenshaft's—need some new quills," he said, clearly hoping to escape the tension that had currently built to a breaking point. Mary and I ignored him, and he took off without waiting for a response.

"Fine," Mary said stiffly to me. "I guess I've mistaken you for someone who cares what I have to say as well?"

It stung to have the words I'd directed so harshly at Potter thrown back at me like that from my best friend. "That's not—of course I care what you have to say! Just not when it has to do with this 'secret crush' business you've been on about lately."

"What? That wasn't what I was going to say at all!" Mary protested, her blue eyes flashing angrily. "And I haven't been 'on about it'!"

"Yes you have! Every time I tell you about something that happened with Potter, you always interpret it to mean I like him!"

"No, I'm just trying to figure out what's going on with you—your actions towards him have been more confusing than his supposed 'bipolar' behavior."

"What?" I said, completely thrown by this accusation. "I haven't—I'm not—"

"Take today, for instance," Mary continued over me. "He was just trying to have a friendly chat with us, and you completely blew up at him for no reason."

"I already—" I started, feeling like we were going around in circles.

"But Monday," Mary cut in, more loudly, "you didn't even care about the paint thing and only joked about giving him detention, even though last year you wouldn't have hesitated to punish him. And yet, last Saturday, you freaked out at him again when he was only trying to be helpful."

I just stared at her once she'd finished. Then I said, half-laughing, "You're blowing this way out of proportion."

"I don't think so. But I will give you one thing—I don't think you have a crush on James. No, I think you're finally starting to realize that he's actually a decent person, and you don't know how to handle it."

Her pronouncement stunned me into silence. I was saved from answering by a huge clap of thunder and sudden downpour of rain that let loose from the sky at that moment. Shrieking in surprise, Mary and I bolted for the nearest shop, Dervish and Bangs, and ducked inside.

"Wow," Mary said, shaking water out of her eyes. "That came up fast."

Impressive bolts of lightning were flashing across the sky in quick succession, followed almost immediately by rolls of thunder. It looked like someone was pouring gigantic buckets of water down on Hogsmeade; the rain was so dense it was hard to see the other side of the street. The storm lasted barely five minutes, and then, as abruptly as it'd come, the rain stopped. People began to emerge hesitantly from stores, and Mary and I soon followed suit. Everything was dripping wet, and I could still hear distant rolls of thunder, but we appeared to be out of the worst of it.

"Sorry for yelling at you," I said suddenly to Mary. "It was a stupid thing to fight about."

Mary smiled at me. "That's okay—but think about what I said, okay?"

I rolled my eyes. "Fine," I said resignedly. "But I think that's just as crazy a theory as the last."

Mary narrowed her eyes at me. "I thought we weren't going to fight about it?" she said with mock sternness.

"All right, sorry," I said again.

Mary retrieved Andrew from Scrivenshaft's and the three of us started back to the castle. As we reached the edge of the grounds, a commotion appeared ahead of us. Squinting, I could make out four people having what seemed to be a mud fight. Nearing the group, I saw that it was none other than—surprise, surprise—Potter, Black, Peter, and Remus. All four were laughing and yelling as they slung handfuls of thick black mud at each other.

I rolled my eyes. "How mature," I commented dryly to Mary and Andrew as we drew even with the Marauders. "I suppose they couldn't think of anything b—" I was cut off abruptly when Sirius ducked a glob of mud Potter had just thrown and the mass smacked me square in the face.

I stumbled back a few steps, spluttering and attempting to wipe the mud from my eyes. Spitting a mouthful of it to the ground, I straightened and whipped around angrily. The four Marauders were doubled over with laughter. "Potter!" I yelled, my fury only building at the sight of them, "you are in so much trouble!"

"S—sorry Evans," he gasped around spurts of laughter.

I strode up to him, glaring so hard I wouldn't have been surprised if sparks were actually flying from my eyes. Glancing behind him, I saw he was standing in front of a large muddy puddle, no doubt churned up during their fight. Reaching up, I shoved Potter in the chest with all my might. Either he hadn't been expecting it, or he was off-balance from laughing so hard, but he stumbled back, arms pinwheeling, and landed on his back in the puddle with an impressive splash. The others' laughter redoubled, and to my aggravation, Potter merely smirked at me and said, "Touché, Evans."

I spun furiously on my heel and stomped back to Mary and Andrew, both of whose lips began twitching at the sight of me. "Shut up," I said through clenched teeth. Turing to Mary, I added, "Decent person, my arse."

**OOOOOOOO**

The steaming hot water pounding from the shower eased both my temper and my mind. After all, it hadn't been strictly Potter's fault that I got a facefull of mud. Nevertheless, it was something I'd rather not have experienced, given a choice. I mean, it'd gotten in my mouth, for Merlin's sake! And that, let me tell you, is far from pleasant.

Relaxing under the shower's steady stream, I also had time to mull over what Mary had said about Potter being a decent person. As much as I'd tried to find ways to deny it, something _was _different about him this year. Adding up all the indicators of his old ways that had accumulated over the past two months—three (relatively) harmless pranks, two isolated instances of flirting, and that knock about asking me out for two years previously only as entertainment—left me with a series of incidents that paled in comparison to Potter's usual level of infuriating behavior. And I _had _treated him unfairly the other day after my run-in with Severus. But I was hardly behaving as confusingly as Mary had insinuated.

Ignoring for the moment the fact that I hadn't come to a conclusion about the 'Potter really isn't that bad' part of the argument, I stepped out of the shower and dried off. It had taken three shampoos to get all of the dirt and grit out of my hair. That was nothing compared to the five times I'd brushed my teeth, only to give up on completely removing the horrible taste of dirt from my mouth.

After I'd dressed in clean clothes, I pulled my hair into a hasty bun to keep it out of my face and descended the stairs into the common room. Reaching the bottom, I hesitated—Mary had gone to the library, and I would rather study with her than among . . . present company (the Marauders were sitting by the fire, as usual), but I didn't really feel like walking all the way down there. So, with a resigned sigh, I started for one of the two seats Mary and I generally occupied in the common room. As I passed his chair, Potter—also freshly showered—turned to me and said, "Really, Evans, I am sorry about earlier." He was smirking as he said it, of course.

"I swallowed some of that, Potter," (that's what she said) I said by way of indicating that he was in no way forgiven, despite my private reflections earlier.

"It wasn't entirely my fault, you know," he continued. "If Padfoot hadn't ducked, I—"

"Hey, don't try to pin this on me," Sirius interjected hurriedly.

It was then that I noticed Chloe was missing from their group. And it appeared Potter and Black had patched things up, if in fact they'd even been at odds with each other. _Boys_, I thought wearily. "Yes, but you were the one who threw it—therefore, the fault is entirely yours," I said aloud.

"Thank you Ev—wait, did she just defend me?" Sirius said, pretending to be shocked. "This is a historical moment! I think we should all take a moment of silence to—"

"Oh shut it, Black," I said, annoyed.

Potter's grin widened. "Well, in any case, since I allowed you to retaliate, I'd say we're even, wouldn't you?"

I just shrugged.

"So, we're good?" Potter pressed.

"Yeah, sure," I said, hoping this would speed up the conversation, as I really didn't want to waste my time talking to Potter longer than was necessary.

As I started to turn away, he added, "Good. I don't like it when you're mad at me."

I whipped around and looked at him sharply.

"Because I'd rather not have to watch my back these next few days. It's awfully tiring." He was smirking again.

I arched an eyebrow. "Afraid of _me,_ Potter?"

"Hey, I'm not too proud to admit that wand of yours is perfectly capable of doing me serious damage."

"Ah, but you forget that I'm not like you—I don't attack people when their back is turned just to get revenge."

Potter blinked, the smirk wiped off his face, and I knew I'd struck a nerve. It was an old argument, one I'd used against him many times before, but this time it seemed to hit with more force. "Right," he mumbled, turning away, and I had no choice but to do the same. I settled in my usual seat, guilt already clenching my stomach uncomfortably, and wondered if Mary had been right about me after all.

**

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A/N: If any of you are STAC readers, you may have recognized the prank at the beginning of this chapter—Lily mentioned it when James told her about the invisibility cloak. Since I always have a hard time thinking of good Marauder pranks (guess I just don't have a pranking mind) I decided to borrow my idea from that story ;) Just a fun fact.**


	6. Will Not Follow

**A/N: First, I'm a little embarrassed about the 'that's what she said' joke in the last chapter. To explain, I put in little side jokes like that as I write—it used to be for the amusement of one of my friends that acted as my beta for a while, and now I just do it for my own amusement. Anyway, I usually take them out before posting, as it seems kind of unprofessional to leave them in (not that I'm writing the next best seller or anything, but you get my point, I hope), but I forgot last week. So, I'm glad most of you didn't seem to mind it (it was a rather good 'that's what she said,' if I do say so myself), but I just thought I'd offer an explanation.**

**And now, on to the regularly scheduled thanking of reviewers: Cassie Weasley, leeease, booklover1998, Cwam, Fantastical Fwooper, emandem, SecretBlack, GabiWoods, Silver Scorpion, Tastes-Like-Fry, Evisawesome, and VaneBEAR—you all rock :) **

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Chapter 5: Will Not Follow**

"Well, I'd better be going," I said reluctantly to Mary Thursday evening. We'd been studying in the library since dinner, but it was nearing eight o'clock and I was scheduled to complete rounds of the castle. I was looking forward to it less than usual, as Remus wouldn't be present to alleviate the boredom of the task.

"Okay—I'll probably be back in the common room by the time you finish."

"Right. Would you mind bringing my bag back? I'd rather not have to carry it for two hours."

"Sure."

"Thanks. See you later."

I exited the library, hesitated for a moment just outside it, and decided to start with the astronomy tower. After climbing the six flights of stairs to the base of the tower, however, I couldn't really fathom making the additional trek to the top—besides, who'd be up there anyway? (okay, so I could think of at least one reason for people to be there; I was pretty much just lazy)—so I abandoned that plan and was about to head to a different part of the castle when I heard a thump followed by someone swearing.

Whirling around, I was surprised and confused to find the staircase empty. "Hello?" I asked tentatively, immediately feeling like an idiot for doing so. No one answered. _How surprising, _I thought dryly. _I hate being a prefect sometimes. _Moving closer to the stairs, I peered further up them, but still couldn't see anyone. Putting on my authoritative, punishment-giving voice, I said, "Okay, I know someone is here." Whoever it was could be under no impression that I hadn't heard them swear earlier. Now feeling incredibly foolish, I continued, "Well, whoever you are, you're obviously trying to hide something, and if I—"

"All right, just calm down, Evans," a disgruntled and horribly familiar voice said.

"Potter?" I asked, now thoroughly bewildered. There was an odd sort of shimmer in the air, and suddenly I found myself staring at Potter, who was sitting on the stairs; however, the way he was sitting made it look like he'd fallen rather than chosen to sit down. "What are you—how did you—" I started, trying to make sense of the situation.

"It's an invisibility cloak, Evans," Potter said shortly, as though he was telling me this against his better judgment. I glanced down, for the first time noticing the silvery cloth he held in his hand. _That must have been the shimmer I saw. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised, _I thought ruefully, quickly recovering from the shock of Potter's sudden appearance,_ if anyone would be sneaking invisibly around the castle, it would be Potter._

"And what, may I ask, were you doing . . . being invisible?" I asked as Potter rose from the stairs, brushing off his trousers and stuffing the cloak into a pocket of his robes. "And where did you get an invisibility cloak?"

"That's none of your business." He had a sort of challenging look in his eyes as he met mine, as though he was daring me to punish him for this. Unfortunately, it wasn't against any rules to own an invisibility cloak, nor to use it—unless, of course, one was using it to aid in one's endeavors to break the rules. Which, as it was Potter, was a very high possibility.

"Actually, I think you'll find that it _is _my business, Potter, if you've been using it to break the rules—you have to admit, it does look pretty suspicious, and knowing you as I do—"

"Well, you can't prove that, I'm afraid, Evans," Potter interrupted. His voice still sounded slightly harsh, and I wondered what could account for this change in attitude. He'd never been above teasing me incessantly, but he'd never been outright hostile towards me.

I pressed my lips together into a thin line. "Fine," I said curtly, spinning on my heel and starting back along the corridor. The sound of footsteps behind me made me turn again—Potter was following me.

"What?" he asked tersely in response to the questioning slash annoyed look I shot him. "There's no other way out of this corridor."

I turned around again without answering, and as Potter's footsteps drew even with mine, I stared resolutely towards the windows, watching the full moon flash past as I walked. After a while, I snuck a glance at Potter. He was looking straight ahead, his jaw tight.

"Look, I'm not going to turn you in or anything," I said, annoyed. "So there's no need to be so cross with me."

Potter glanced at me briefly, then sighed. "It has nothing to do with you," he said, though he didn't sound irritated. Instead, I almost got the sense that he was apologizing for being so short with me earlier.

"Oh," I said, feeling slightly sheepish. "Well, then what—"

Potter suddenly clapped a hand over my mouth, cutting me off.

I shoved his hand away angrily. "What are you—"

"Shh!" Potter hissed, and I clamped my mouth shut again, listening. Voices were floating out of a nearby room, and suddenly, I knew who they would belong to.

We crept closer, and my heart was pounding as hard as it had been the day of the Quidditch match. I fought every instinct to run as Potter stopped just out of sight of the room—after all, I didn't want to look like a coward in front of Potter.

"—all for now," Severus was saying.

"So, same time, same place next week then?" a second voice that I was pretty sure belonged to Marcus Avery responded.

"No, you fool," Mulciber said through clenched teeth. "We have to switch times and locations every time, otherwise—"

"I'll let you know," Severus said, overriding Mulciber.

"How?" Avery asked.

"I'll let you know," Severus repeated, his words slower and more dangerously quiet this time.

I could almost see Avery gulp. "Right," he mumbled. Footsteps started towards the door, and my heart leaped into my throat. I didn't know what they'd do if they caught me listening in on them a second time, but I knew it wouldn't be pleasant. But before I could move or say anything, Potter threw the invisibility cloak around us. As the cool cloth settled around my head and shoulders, Potter grabbed my arm and pulled me against the wall. "Don't make a sound," he said, almost inaudibly.

_Okay, did that _really _need to be said? _I thought, resisting the urge to say the words aloud. But as Mulciber, Avery, and Severus exited the room, I flattened myself against the wall instinctively, hardly daring even to breathe. I was sure my rapidly beating heart would give our position away, but the three boys merely looked up and down the corridor briefly, their eyes sweeping over us, and started away in the direction Potter and I had been heading. Maybe I imagined it because I was so nervous, but I could have sworn Severus's gaze lingered on the spot where Potter and I were hidden slightly longer than the other two. However, he too turned eventually to follow Avery and Mulciber down the corridor.

We remained frozen against the wall long after the trio had disappeared from sight. Then Potter let out a long breath, almost as though he'd been holding it, and pulled the cloak from around us. His hand remained clamped over my arm, and I shook it slightly, saying, "Er, Potter, would you mind letting go? I'm starting to lose feeling in my fingers."

Potter glanced down, seeming almost surprised to find himself still grasping my arm. "Sorry," he muttered, dropping it.

I rubbed the spot where his hand had been, both to get the blood circulating once more and to rid myself of the feeling of Potter's grasp—I didn't exactly relish being touched by him.

Potter stowed the cloak in his pocket once more before fixing me with a calculating, intense look.

"What?" I asked defensively when he didn't say anything, just continued to stare at me.

"You weren't surprised to find them there, were you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, what with your . . . history with Snape, I would've expected more of a reaction."

"Oh, so now you're all perceptive about—"

"Just answer the question, Evans."

I met his eyes for a moment and then looked down. "No, not really," I admitted. "I mean, I didn't necessarily expect to see them _here_, but the general situation wasn't that much of a shock." I was a little surprised at how calmly I could discuss this—after all, I fully understood the implications of this and the last meeting between Snape and his friends.

Apparently, Potter hadn't been expecting it, either. "You're rather carefree about them all being Death Eaters," he said scathingly.

I took a step back, glaring at him. "I'm perfectly aware of the seriousness of the situation—and this doesn't prove they're Death Eaters," I said, gesturing back at the room they'd recently vacated.

"Oh, I'm sorry, my mistake," Potter replied sarcastically. "But I'm pretty damn sure it won't be long until they are."

"Right, thanks for reminding me that my former best friend chose You-Know-Who over our friendship," I shot back, matching Potter's voice for sarcasm. "I'd forgotten."

That shut him up. He winced, looking down for a moment, then raised an apologetic gaze to my face. "Sorry," he said for the second time that night.

Both of us fell silent, and I thought vaguely how odd it was to have Potter sincerely apologizing to me. _Well, he did try to once before, but you—no, this is not the time to think about the end of last year, _I argued with myself. _Though all this stuff with Sev sure makes it hard not to think about it. Okay, I'm having a conversation with myself—stop it, Lily._

I was glad when Potter chose that moment to break the silence. "So, er, was it something like this that you ran into after the Quidditch game?"

_Well, never mind, I'm not glad he broke the silence with that_. "Yeah, still don't want to talk with you about that," I said rather shortly.

Potter held up his hands. "Fine."

We started walking again, and before I knew it, I'd started telling Potter everything anyway. I don't really know what came over me, but for some reason I wanted his opinion on the matter. After all, when I'd told Mary about it, the conversation had quickly turned into one of her Potter-is-nice-and-you-have-a-crush-on-him discussions.

When I finished he said, "Well, no wonder you looked . . . 'spose you'd better watch yourself now—if Mulciber finds out you told me . . ." he trailed off with a twisted smile.

"Thanks, I'm glad to see you're so concerned for my safety," I said dryly. Potter gave me another calculating look but didn't say anything. "Speaking of that day," I continued, choosing to ignore whatever was currently going on inside his head, "it's my turn to ask you something."

"Oh, is it?"

"What did you mean when you said I 'wasn't even going to try'?"

Potter stopped walking, and, to my astonishment, actually reddened slightly at this. "I meant that you were never even going to try to stop hating me," he mumbled in a rush. "But—"

"I don't hate you," I said, realizing as I said it that it was true. I wasn't sure how long it had been true, but sometime recently, Potter had become . . . tolerable. I still wouldn't go as far as to agree with Mary that he was a decent person, but being around him—like now, for instance—no longer made me want to jump out the nearest window.

Potter raised his eyebrows. "Really? Interesting . . . well, I guess you learn something new everyday, huh, Evans?" he asked with a smirk.

"Don't push it," I muttered.

Potter chuckled, and we started walking again. As we reached the end of the corridor, both of us turned right, as though by some unspoken agreement.

"So, where did you get an invisibility cloak?" I asked, realizing as I spoke that we were having something close to an actual conversation. _Strange_.

Potter glanced sideways at me. "I thought I told you that was none of your business," he said, but the corners of his mouth turned up slightly.

I just shot him a look.

"All right—I got it from my father. I guess you could say it's some sort of family heirloom; it's been passed down for ages."

"Well, that's—" I stopped abruptly, my mind suddenly flying to the paint balloon prank, and how the balloons had seemed to come out of nowhere . . .

"That's what?" Potter prompted.

"It _was _you—I knew it!" I said, disregarding his question.

Potter frowned at me. "What?"

"That day with the water balloons full of paint . . . I couldn't tell where they were coming from, but that's because you were invisible!"

"I suppose you're going to turn me in for it now, then?" Potter asked, somehow managing to sound both joking and wary at the same time.

"No—it's been a week already. And why would you automatically assume I'd do that, anyway?"

Potter snorted and stopped again to face me squarely. "Only the fact that you've never given me a reason not to."

_Ouch._ I stared back at him, not really knowing how to answer that. "Well, I won't," I finally said lamely.

"Well, thank you kindly, Evans," Potter said lightly, and we resumed walking once more.

I roughly forced the guilt that was building in me back down. To distract myself, I said, "Although, you have given me a lot to think about. I can't imagine how many rules you've broken without anyone being the wiser."

"No, I don't imagine you can," Potter said with a wry smile, as though he was sharing an inside joke with himself. The smile quickly dropped from his face, however, to be replaced by an uncharacteristically troubled look.

"What?" I asked before I could stop myself.

"Nothing," Potter said, smirking at me in his usual way once more. "Well, see you around, Evans," he said abruptly, turning back the way we'd come. As I turned to watch him, he ducked through a tapestry we'd passed moments before and was gone.

_That was weird,_ I thought, frowning. _Did he mean to go that way, and only just realize he'd accidentally passed it? But that doesn't really fit—it seemed more like he ran away, which isn't like him at all_. I puzzled over it for a few moments longer, shrugged, and continued on my way. I'd almost forgotten that I was supposed to be doing rounds. As I turned up a corridor at random, a more disturbing thought struck me: I'd successfully had a conversation with Potter without shouting at him, and I'd kind of enjoyed it.

**OOOOOOOO**

"So . . . you're friends now?" Mary asked slowly as we got ready for bed that evening. I'd just finished telling her what had happened on rounds, though I'd left out the part about Snape, Mulciber and Avery—no need to worry her, after all. Instead, I'd told her Potter had brought up Snape and the incident he'd nearly witnessed after the Quidditch game without prompting. Mary hadn't questioned it, though she seemed unnecessarily confused about our subsequent conversation.

"What? No!" I said emphatically. "Haven't you been—why do you always blow things out of proportion?" I asked, feeling an uncomfortable sense of déjà vu.

Mary must have been reminded of our fight in Hogsmeade as well, because she looked at me warily and said, "Hey, now, we've already had this fight. And like I said then, I'm just trying to—"

"Figure me out, yeah, I know." The springs of my mattress let out a protesting squeak as I sat on the edge of my bed. "Am I really that complicated?" I added with a smirk.

"Apparently," Mary grumbled, flopping down on her bed as well. "At least when it comes to James."

"Is it really that hard to believe I wouldn't turn him in?" I asked abruptly. Potter's comment was still bothering me.

Mary just raised her eyebrows.

I lay back on my pillow with a sigh. "Am I a horrible person?" I whispered.

Mary laughed. "Oh, come on, Lily, don't be so dramatic! And since when do you care how you've treated James or what he thinks of you?"

I rolled over on my side to glare at her. "I don't."

She grinned back. "You know, if you didn't bring him up so often, I'd be less inclined to develop all these theories that you hate so much."

"I don't bring him up that often!" I protested.

"Whatever you say, Lil," Mary said mildly.

"Okay, good night," I said pointedly, yanking my hangings closed to shut her out. Unfortunately, they did nothing to block her answering giggle.

I lay awake for a while, thinking. I'd come up with two points of consideration: One, I obviously felt some sort of guilt for how I'd treated Potter over the years, which meant that he hadn't deserved all that I'd said and done to him. That led me to the second point, which was—once again—determining the truth behind Mary's latest theory.

By the time I finally dropped off to sleep, I'd reached a solid conclusion: whether Potter had never been completely horrible, and I was only noticing it now, or whether he'd turned over a new leaf, I'd continued to treat him as I always had. I cringed, because this also led me to admit that Mary had been right—I hadn't changed my behavior because I couldn't accept that it might be necessary. Furthermore, that change was far too strange to consider, because I had a feeling it was something in the realm of friendship. And Potter and I simply were not, nor would we ever be, friends.

**OOOOOOOO**

I spent most of the next day—Halloween—trying to convince myself of that fact. Okay, 'trying' really isn't the right word, since it wasn't that hard a thing to prove. First, I was treated at breakfast to the fabulously reinstated Potter-Chloe snogging sessions. I'd nearly forgotten they were dating, having seen little of Chloe over the past few days.

I sighed nostalgically as I sat down across from Mary. "And here I thought he might have dumped her," I said wistfully. "But, alas, it seems she's returned to steal my appetite once again."

Mary snorted. "Yeah, I don't really see what he's getting out of the relationship."

"That, apparently," I said, gesturing at the pair of them, lips still locked together. _Yes, I definitely couldn't be friends with someone who was dating such an insufferable person. Especially when Potter was the other person in that relationship. He's bad enough on his own. _"Honestly, I don't know why his friends don't just tell him to chuck her," I mused aloud.

"Well, I think at least one of them has," Mary said, nodding significantly down the table.

Glancing over again, I saw what she meant—Black was once again absent from the Marauder's group. _Looks like Potter can either have him or her._ I couldn't believe that was actually a difficult choice for him. I mean, I didn't enjoy Black's company, but he was Potter's best mate—it should be a no-brainer, right?

"Makes you feel bad for Sirius, doesn't it?" Mary asked, obviously thinking along the same lines as I.

"Yeah," I agreed. "Well, almost."

Mary rolled her eyes. "Honestly, Lily, I'm starting to think that maybe you were right. Maybe you are a horrible person."

I threw a bit of toast at her. "And you are a horrible friend!"

"Come on, you know I was kidding! Besides, even you have to admit Sirius doesn't deserve to be replaced by Chloe," she said, wrinkling her nose for emphasis.

_Can't argue with that, as I recently came to the same conclusion_, I thought ruefully. "Fine," I said grudgingly. Glancing at my watch, I stood up, swinging my bag over my shoulder. "Well, time for Potions." As I made to turn from the table, I nearly ran into Chloe as she and Potter were passing. She shot me a dirty look, which I didn't even dignify with an eye roll in response. Instead, I glanced at Potter, and was surprised at the drawn look on his face. Somehow, it reminded me of his hasty departure last night, and I wondered again what was bothering him. He'd never been troubled about anything as far as I knew; in fact, he was generally carefree to the point of imprudence.

"Hey, Potter," I said, partially in an attempt to be civil towards him and partially to annoy Chloe further. I certainly succeeded in the second—Chloe dropped Potter's hand as though it had burned her and stalked away in a huff. In retrospect, it was strange that my greeting had bothered her so much; after all, Potter and I were on a strictly last name basis with each other, hardly something to be concerned about.

Potter paused briefly to shoot me a quick smile before hurrying after Chloe. He attempted to grab her hand again when he reached her, but she yanked it out of reach and said something angrily to him. They argued the rest of the way out of the Great Hall.

Mary and I walked into the Entrance Hall and headed for our dungeon classroom. "Well, looks like that relationship is on its way out, thank God," Mary said.

I made a noncommittal noise in my throat, distracted by a new point in my why-Potter-and-I-can't-be-friends argument. Friends definitely called each other by their first names, and I couldn't even do that in my head.

**OOOOOOOO**

The Halloween feast was one of my favorites at Hogwarts. I wasn't really sure why; Halloween had always been my favorite holiday, so I suppose it had something to do with reconnecting to my Muggle roots. Anyway, when I entered the Great Hall and took in the floating jack-o-lanterns and live bats fluttering around the ceiling, I couldn't help but smile.

"Merlin, I'm starving!" Mary said as we sat down.

"Well, lucky for you, we just so happen to be at a feast," I told her with a cheeky smile.

Mary gave me an exasperated look. "Wow, thanks," she said dryly.

Before I could reply, something unprecedented in my career at Hogwarts happened. Sirius Black sat down beside me. I looked at him half in shock and half in annoyance. "What are you doing?" I asked testily.

"Well, let's see," Black replied, pretending to deliberate the matter. "I'm sitting, breathing, thinking, talking to y—"

"I meant," I cut in, knowing he'd drag this out as long as possible just to be annoying, "what are you doing _here_? You never sit with us," I added, in order to make my point abundantly clear.

"So there's no time like the present to start, eh?" Black said cheerfully.

Unfortunately, I didn't agree. "Well, I'd really rather you didn't," I said, none too kindly.

Black raised an eyebrow. "No need to be so harsh, Evans."

"Why? Do you think you deserve better treatment from me based on the kindness you've shown me over the years?" I asked sarcastically. "For instance, might I remind you that at the beginning of this year, you implied that anyone who looked at my face would be likely to lose their lunch, so—"

"Actually, it was dinner, I believe," Sirius interjected with a smirk.

I resisted the urge to smack it off his handsome face and continued, "So you shouldn't be surprised that I wouldn't want to be in your presence any longer than necessary."

"First, we both know that you could give a steaming pile of hippogriff dung about any insults I may throw at you"—I gave a derisive snort at his choice of words, which Black ignored—"and second, I think you are projecting a tad, my dear."

I looked at him incredulously. "Projecting what?"

"Your feelings about Prongs onto me. And I don't appreciate it," he explained with a mockingly stern look.

It took me a minute to figure out who he was talking about—the Marauder's nicknames for each other had never made sense to me. When I did, I snorted again. "Right, like you're one to talk. You and Potter aren't even—" I stopped abruptly, realizing something. _Is that why he's here?_ I thought suddenly. _Because he and Potter are fighting? Merlin, they must really not be getting on, if he'd rather spend time with me. Although, he probably just misses annoying me, since that used to be his and Potter's favorite pastime._

Mary, who had been watching Black's and my exchange with increasing amusement, spoke up. "If I may interject something here—" she started.

"What about James and I?" Black interrupted sharply. He was watching me with an uncharacteristically hard look on his face. His failure to use his best mate's nickname was not lost on me either.

"I just—it—" I stuttered, but was luckily saved from having to answer by the loud explosion that sounded just then above our heads.

A couple of people screamed or ducked in surprise, and everyone looked up at the enchanted ceiling for the source. Multicolored sparks were fading from the sky, but they were quickly replaced with more as another firework exploded above us. The explosions continued for a good five minutes, causing many appreciative exclamations from the students below. It was a rather impressive display: in addition to the standard starburst, there were also bats, pumpkins, cackling ghosts, and black cats; these later four flew, swooped or ran about in the sky for a bit before disappearing in a shower of sparks.

What was strange was that the fireworks didn't appear to be shooting up from the ground. Instead, they came arcing across the sky, almost as if they were coming from . . . _I guess I just found out what Potter was doing up in the Astronomy Tower last night_, I thought, amused despite myself. After all, this prank—if you could even call it that—centered around my favorite holiday, so I couldn't hold too much of a grudge against it.

In a strange turn of events, Sirius did not share my sentiments one bit. In fact, when I finally looked away from the ceiling and back at him, the thunderous look in his eyes was actually quite frightening. I made a mental note never to truly piss him off. Forgetting our half-finished conversation, Black stood and strode over to Potter, pulling him round by the shoulder none too gently. I couldn't hear what they were saying to each other, but it didn't look like a pleasant conversation. It was also short, and ended with Black striding angrily from the Hall and Potter turning back to his friends with that same tired look on his face he'd had at breakfast.

As Black passed me, I heard him mutter, "Prick," contemptuously under his breath. _Are Black and I actually of one mind about Potter? _I thought incredulously to myself. _This year just keeps getting stranger and stranger._

**

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**

**A/N: In writing this story, I've discovered that I enjoy writing Lily/Sirius stuff almost as much as Lily/James! Er, not in a dating relationship type way, just to clarify. But their interactions are amusing to invent ;) Next chapter in a week….**

**Also, random thought, but something that I just realized this week (and some of you will probably be like, um, yeah, where have you been for the past ... how ever many years it's been since I could have figured this out): Snape taught Tonks at Hogwarts. Whoa. How strange is that? It still weirds me out, even writing this...**


	7. Used to Run

**A/N: OMGOMGOMG THE NEW HP TRAILER WAS AWESOME! Looks like the movie is going to be INCREDIBLY EPIC, as it should be. I laughed a lot looking at the 7 Potters part—Dan in girl clothes! Haha. Anyway, if you haven't watched it yet, DO IT! You won't be disappointed….**

**And of course, thanks to last week's reviewers: SecretBlack, Love-Pink26, alice demer, Rainbow Twilight, GabiWoods, skazmi, Fantastical Fwooper, Cassie Weasley, MrsHarryCullen, roflshvuakomail, reader, Silver Scorpion, and VaneBEAR!**

**Okay, I think that about covers things—on to the next chapter!**

**

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Chapter 6: Used to Run**

It seemed Potter's and Black's friendship was officially over. As rare a sight as the two of them together had become in the past few weeks, it was now almost nonexistent. They didn't sit together at meals (though thankfully Black didn't try to sit with Mary and me again), they didn't sit together in class, and they didn't sit together in the common room during breaks and in the evenings. Each appeared to be trying to give the other as wide a berth as possible, quite a feat with someone who had once been your best mate, trust me.

As (reluctantly) bad as I felt for Potter and Black, I felt even worse for Remus and Peter. Neither seemed to know how to handle this new and unprecedented development between their friends. Black and Potter had always been the ringleaders of sorts for the Marauders, mostly because Peter was too cowardly and Remus too calm to lead such a troublemaking group. Now Peter and Remus were forced to divide their attention between the two, and as a result ended up receiving the brunt of the loathing Potter and Black directed at each other. Each was angry with the other two for maintaining a neutral stance. I thought it was highly unfair for Black and Potter to force the others to take sides—after all, it was their own damn fight, no need to drag their friends into it—but who was I to interfere? Not that I wanted to, anyway.

However, as fate would have it, I got caught up in it nonetheless.

The second Hogsmeade visit of the year fell on the twenty-fifth of November, and I'd decided to skip it. The memory of the last one was still vivid in my mind, and I didn't relish repeating the experience. Not that I expected it to go as horribly this time, but that combined with the fact that Hogsmeade just wasn't as exciting as it had been third year made it easy for me to choose to stay back. Plus our homework load hadn't lightened in the slightest since the beginning of the year—in fact, with the end of term rapidly approaching, it had worsened considerably—and I was looking forward to a quiet day catching up on work. I know, I'm incredibly lame. Don't worry, I've accepted this about myself, and believe me, I've been berated about it sufficiently over the years, mostly from Mary. I wasn't looking forward to getting it again from her when she heard my decision about Saturday, but, to my surprise, she merely said "Okay," and we continued on our way to breakfast without further comment from her.

Though it was possible the reminder of our fight was what kept Mary from haggling me about my study habits, I suspected it had a lot more to do with her excitement about spending some quality alone time with Andrew. Due to the aforementioned workload, the pair hadn't spent nearly as much time together as they had last year, and I knew Mary would enjoy the freedom to spend an entire day with him without worrying about having to include me. Something she would never have asked for the opportunity to do, good friend as she was.

Reconfirming my suspicions, Mary practically sprinted through breakfast and Andrew came up to us just as she was finishing. "Ready?" he asked Mary, smiling a greeting at me as well.

"Yep," Mary said brightly, hastily gulping down the rest of her pumpkin juice and standing up. "You need anything from the village, Lil?" she asked me.

"No, thanks though," I said with a smile. "Have fun, you two."

"Thanks," they said in unison before leaving the Great Hall hand in hand.

Finishing my breakfast at a much slower pace, I followed their path from the Hall, turning against the flow of upper class students leaving the castle and climbing the seven flights to Gryffindor Tower. Grabbing my bag, I retraced my steps to the second floor and struck off for the library. Unconsciously inhaling deeply as I entered—I loved the smell of books—I searched out my favorite table in the back of the room. As I'd hoped, with it being both a Saturday and a Hogsmeade weekend, it was empty. Spreading out the contents of my bag, I pulled a piece of parchment, bottle of ink and quill towards me. I unscrewed the ink bottle, dipped in my quill, and sighed in annoyance. I'd forgotten my Potions book in my dormitory.

I looked around at my remaining books, considering my options. I could start with something else, but I'd really wanted to get my Potions essay out of the way. Although I was one of Professor Slughorn's favorite students, I didn't really enjoy the subject. It was just something I happened to do well. Okay, to be honest, I did well in every subject. _Better watch myself, _I mused as I dragged myself reluctantly from the library, _I'm at risk of sounding almost as arrogant as Potter_. Though it was true—I was usually in the top three when it came to exam results (the top two places were occasionally occupied by Potter or Black, to my vexation).

_Why do I have to live on the seventh bloody floor?_ I thought in frustration as I reached the fifth floor landing, my legs burning and a thin sheen of sweat starting to break out on my forehead. Stopping to catch my breath, I almost immediately wished I'd kept walking.

Potter appeared around the corner at the end of the corridor, and he grinned as soon as he saw me. "Evans," he called, nodding at me. "Why aren't you at Hogsmeade?" he added as he neared me.

I folded my arms across my chest. "I could ask you the same thing, Potter."

"True," he conceded.

To my chagrin, when I began climbing the stairs once more, Potter followed. I stopped on the third stair, turning to give him a shrewd look. "And did you just happen to be heading this way, Potter, or do you—"

"No, Evans, I'm not following you just to annoy you," Potter interrupted tiredly, as though he was dealing with a petulant child.

"It's not like that's a completely unfair assumption to make," I muttered, slightly offended by his tone. We started walking again, Potter easily keeping pace with me. _Damn him and his Quidditch training, _I thought, trying to quiet my heavy breathing. _Although, sitting on a broom for hours isn't exactly physically taxing. Oh, sod it, why am I even deliberating the point? _I tried to focus instead on the reasons I'd felt guilty about how I'd treated Potter lately, a tougher feat by far when he was actually present.

"I'm just going to the common room to enjoy a relaxing Saturday," he continued, apparently feeling that further explanation was necessary, though I thought I detected a note of bitterness in his voice. "Which is what most people not at Hogsmeade do, I'm told," he said, and there was definitely something almost cynical in his tone now. "Though I believe I would be correct in assuming that you are not one of those people?"

I liked this new, angst-ridden Potter even less than his old charismatic, egotistical self, and was glad to have an excuse to soon leave him behind. "No, I'm just coming back to grab my Potions book," I said. Potter smirked at that, and I winced. I'd been distracted by his sullen attitude, forgetting that he, unlike Mary, wouldn't miss an opportunity to mock me.

"Should've known you'd actually take this time to work," he said, placing a delicate emphasis on the last word, somehow managing to give it a derogatory meaning. "Merlin, Evans, you're already the top in every class, what could you possibly need to study for?"

Caught off guard that he'd actually admit this, especially since it wasn't strictly true, I didn't answer right away. "Well, some of us actually need to make an effort to get good marks," I retorted contemptuously, cringing inwardly almost instantly. _What kind of a comeback was that? It wasn't even a comeback! I basically implied that I'm jealous of him—as if Potter needs any help inflating his ego._ And if that wasn't enough, my stupid conscience made me add, "Besides, you beat me in exams sometimes."

It was Potter's turn to stop abruptly; we were right outside the portrait hole. Shooting me an amused look, he said, "See, we can get along."

I frowned at him. "I wouldn't exactly call this 'getting along.' But I'm glad I could get you out of your funk," I added sarcastically.

Potter looked at me quizzically. "What funk?"

I raised an eyebrow—he couldn't possibly be at a loss as to what I was referring. I opened my mouth to reply, then decided it wasn't worth the extra time in Potter's presence. "Never mind," I said with a sigh, turning to give the password to the Fat Lady.

I quickly retrieved my Potions book and crossed the common room for the fourth time that day. As I neared the portrait hole again, Potter scrambled up from his chair and followed me out. "What funk?" he asked again as the Fat Lady swung shut behind us.

"I thought you were going to spend a 'relaxing Saturday' in the common room," I said through clenched teeth.

"Well, plans change," Potter said, smirking again. "So?"

I sighed. "You were acting all . . . bitter and self-loathing, which isn't like you—look, it doesn't really matter—"

"Concerned for my well-being? I'm touched," Potter said.

I rolled my eyes. _This is exactly why I didn't want to continue this conversation_. "Anyway, why aren't you in Hogsmeade?" I asked.

"You already asked me that," Potter pointed out.

"Not technically," I retorted.

"Okay, fine," he consented. His face hardened slightly, and I wondered if I'd just reversed the progress we'd made away from jaded Potter. "So, as you know, Sirius and I . . . well, let's just say we're not exactly seeing eye to eye at the moment."

I barely refrained from snorting at what I was sure was a grave understatement.

"Moony's visiting his family again—"

"Oh, is his mother still ill?" I asked, concerned.

"What? Oh, yeah."

I did snort that time, not believing how self-centered Potter could be.

"What?" Potter said again.

"Well, you don't seem too concerned about it. He is your friend; you could show a little more interest in his life," I replied derisively.

The left side of Potter's mouth curved up in a crooked smile. "Oh, believe me, I do," he said cryptically.

Before I could demand that he explain what the hell that meant, he continued, "And Peter's no fun to hang out with alone, er, no offense to him. So . . . here I am."

I was starting to wish I hadn't told him I didn't hate him. Apparently he was under the impression that we were friends now, or something. _Though he would have done this even if he thought you still hated him, _part of my mind argued. Unfortunately, I had to admit that part was right. "Well, fair enough, I suppose," I said, knowing etiquette required me to say something. I couldn't help adding, "Though, you're sure you aren't . . . I don't know, staying back to set up fireworks to go off on the Astronomy Tower?" I looked at him, eyebrows raised questioningly.

He smiled crookedly again. "Can't put one past you, eh, Evans?" Then his face fell slightly. "We'd had that one planned from the beginning of the year, actually," he continued, and I could only assume 'we' referred to him and the other three Marauders. "Which is why Sirius was so pissed when I went ahead with it on my own."

I wasn't sure if he was still talking to me, or just thinking out loud. "Sorry, why are you telling me this?" I asked.

Potter looked at me thoughtfully. "Dunno—because you're a neutral third party, I s'pose," he said with a wry smile.

I snorted. "And what does that have to do with anything?"

"Well, whenever I try to talk to Moony or Wormtail, they try and get me to apologize to Sirius." He wrinkled his nose. "Even though _he's _the one with the problem; I didn't do anything," he muttered.

"First of all, you sound like a five-year-old," I informed him. He opened his mouth angrily, but I continued louder, "Second, what made you think I wouldn't do the same thing?"

Potter shot me a look that was half-amused, half-surprised. "Come off it, Evans, you don't actually mind that Sirius and I aren't friends?"

I just shrugged. "You realize you're losing your best friend over a girl," I said.

If Potter noticed that I hadn't answered his question, he didn't say anything. "Yeah," he mumbled.

"And she's worth it, you think?"

Potter glanced sideways at me. He appeared to be debating whether he wanted to answer. "Things with Chloe," he said finally, "well, she's . . ."

_Infuriating? Shallow? Slowly ruining your life?_ I silently filled in the end of his sentence as I waited for him to continue.

"It's complicated," he finally said.

I raised an eyebrow. "Not really," I retorted. "Either you want to stay friends with Black, or you want to date her."

"That's hardly a fair choice," Potter said indignantly.

"It is if you realize that Chloe's—"

"Yes, yes, I know you don't think she's my type," he interrupted impatiently. "But, unfortunately, it's not your opinion that matters, Evans."

"Then why did you ask for it?"

"I didn't! You're the one who—" Potter stopped abruptly, running a hand through his hair in frustration, which made it stick up even more than it usually did. "Look, you want to know why I'm dating her? Because she's smart, and she likes Quidditch—"

_Merlin, bloody Quidditch! What does everyone see in that sport? _"—and she's attractive, and shallow, blah, blah, blah" I interrupted, "so basically, you want to date someone exactly like you?"

I was forced to stop walking as Potter whirled around to face me, eyebrows snapping together angrily. "I'm not shallow!" he protested.

"Anyway," I said loudly, before this conversation could get completely out of hand, "it's hard to date someone who's really similar to you—haven't you heard of the phrase 'opposites attract'?"

Potter snorted. "That's ridiculous. You have to have some things in common . . . hang on, why am I even listening to relationship advice from you? You can hardly be an expert on it, having dated a grand total of zero blokes!"

I blinked, a little hurt. Not that I cared about being single, but having it thrown in my face like that was kind of hard to take. "Fine," I said coolly, starting towards the library once more.

Potter trotted to catch up with me. "Hang on, Evans. I'm sorry, that was harsh," he said. Before I could wonder at his second sincere apologize in as many weeks, he added with a wicked grin, "So, you think I'm attractive?"

"What?" I said, completely thrown off.

"You said it when you were talking about how Chloe's similar to me, so—"

"That's not what I meant, Potter," I growled.

"It's okay if you do," he assured me.

"Well, I don't," I replied firmly. We reached the entrance to the library, and both of us automatically stopped just short of it.

"Well, thanks for the advice—at least, I think there was some advice hidden in there," Potter said with a smirk.

I sighed, shaking my head. "Don't mention it," I said dryly. "But seriously, it's not like you're going to marry this girl, so don't let it . . . I mean, Black doesn't . . ."

Potter grinned at me in amusement. "Right, thanks, Evans. And you don't think you have to be planning on marrying someone in order to date them, do you? Though I suppose that would explain your lack of boyfriends." But this time he said it teasingly.

I rolled my eyes. "All right, I'm leaving," I announced, turning towards the library.

"Enjoy your essay," Potter said, the hint of a laugh in his voice. "Oh, and Evans," he added, and I turned around, waiting. "If you're concerned about falling behind in class, I can tutor you if you'd like," he said, lips twitching.

I wished I had something to throw at him, but, failing that, I settled for spinning on my heel and marching away without answering. The echo of Potter's laughter followed me into the quiet of the library.

**OOOOOOOO**

"So, how was Hogsmeade?" I asked Mary later that evening at dinner.

"Oh, you know, thrilling as usual," she said, grinning slyly.

"What?" I asked slowly.

Glancing around, Mary leaned in and said quietly, "Andrew and I may or may not have spent most of it snogging," she admitted with a wink.

"Oh, gross," I said, leaning away from her and wrinkling my nose.

Mary laughed at my reaction. "Fear not, my prudish friend, I will spare you the more exciting details," she said, wiggling her eyebrows.

"I'm sure my imagination will supply me with many a disturbing image," I said dryly. "Thanks for that, by the way."

"No problem," Mary said brightly. "And you? Was it a successful day of studying?"

"More or less," I said. "Except for the part with Potter in it."

Mary looked at me cautiously. "What did he do this time?" Thankfully, she'd taken my request that she keep her theories to herself to heart, and we'd returned to operating on the principal that Potter was an arrogant toerag not worth the time of day. A principal that may or may not still faithfully apply, but I didn't really want to think about that yet.

"He—well, nothing, really," I said, realizing that our interaction had been more out of the ordinary than infuriating. "He wasn't at Hogsmeade either because . . . well, long story short, he didn't really have anyone to go with. Not that he had legitimate excuses for any of his friends. Well, except for Remus—sad about his mother, isn't it?"

Mary looked at me blankly.

I frowned. "Don't you know—you always know everything about—"

Comprehension suddenly dawned on my friend's face. "Oh, right, Remus's mum. With her . . . thing."

_How is it that no one seems to care about this? _Feeling that I might be missing something but choosing to ignore this for the moment, I continued, "Anyway, Potter and I talked about him and Black, and I gave him some advice about Chloe—"

Mary choked on her pumpkin juice. "Sorry?" she spluttered. Clearing her throat, she continued, "_You _gave James relationship advice?"

"You can save the lecture about how I can't possibly know anything because of my lack of personal experience," I said irritably.

Mary frowned. "I wasn't—well, what did you tell him?"

I relayed the major points of our conversation. When I finished, Mary looked along the table as though searching for someone. Following her gaze, I spotted Potter and Chloe sitting together. She was talking animatedly about something, and Potter was listening only half-heartedly. Scanning further along towards the teacher's table, I saw Black and Peter eating in relative silence.

"Well, I guess he didn't take your advice," Mary said resignedly as both of us turned away.

I shrugged. "His problem, not mine," I said firmly. "If he really doesn't care about losing Black's friendship, then so be it." But I couldn't quite shake a feeling of disappointment. Not because Potter hadn't listened to me, but because a deeply suppressed part of me hated to see him miserable.

**OOOOOOOO**

"So, rumor has it you're giving out free relationship advice," Remus said teasingly when he met me for rounds the following Tuesday.

I rolled my eyes. "Talked to Potter, have you?"

"Well, I've tried to," Remus said more dismally. "You can probably now appreciate what a difficult task that is."

I shook my head. "I can't believe he's still with her. Then again, I can't believe he started dating her in the first place."

Remus shrugged. "Well, who he dates is his concern—though it's sort of hard to keep that in mind at times."

I privately disagreed about the first bit—I thought friends' approval was nearly as important as one's own opinion of a potential dating partner. Wasn't the current situation a case in point? "Whatever the case, I think he and Black are both being idiots."

"And you're surprised by this?" Remus asked with the hint of a smirk playing about his lips.

I inclined my head. "Good point. Anyway, it's certainly not fair to you or Peter."

Remus smiled at me. "Thanks, but I'm sure we'll survive. It'll blow over eventually; it always does." But he didn't sound completely confident.

Casting about for a change of subject, I said, "So, how was your family?" I realized too late that this might not exactly be a pleasant conversation shift, but, to my surprise, Remus looked not grim but confused. "What?" he asked.

"You were home this weekend, right? That's what Potter—"

"Right, yes, I was," Remus said, sounding almost nervous.

_Okay, something is going on, _I thought decidedly. _There's no way Remus forgot that he was home only two days ago. So that must mean Potter lied to me. But why would he need to do that? _I stopped to face Remus directly. He was watching me warily, which only added to my confusion. "Is everything all right?" I asked.

"Fine," he answered, too quickly.

"Because you seem—" My voice failed abruptly as the thread of a long-ago conversation suddenly resounded through my head as clearly as though the speaker was standing before me.

_"He's ill, they say he's ill—"_

_ "Every month at the full moon?"_

As though this was some sort of trigger, a volley of images began to flash through my head. There'd been a full moon that day in Potions when Potter told me Remus was sick. It had been full again when he'd missed rounds after our first Hogsmeade visit. In fact, he'd missed rounds a lot last year as well, always claiming illness or the need to visit his family. But he'd always looked a little ill when he'd returned, even if the latter had been his excuse. And Potter often seemed too indifferent about his friend's troubles . . .

Almost in slow motion, I turned towards the window behind me. I could just glimpse the moon beyond, and it formed almost a perfect circle, indicating that it had been full in the very recent past. As though this was the final piece of the puzzle, a fist-sized lump formed in my throat and I turned to face Remus once more. His head was up defensively and his eyes were wide and frightened. "Lily," he said in a tone that one might use to calm a skittish horse.

"You're—" My voice came out as a croak, and I cleared my throat. "You're a werewolf."

**

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A/N: Ah, the classic Lily-finds-out-about-Remus-being-a-werewolf part of the L/J saga….Kind of doesn't work as well as a cliffhanger when we already knew that about him, but oh well.**


	8. Come Around

**A/N: First, a thanks to last week's reviewers: ****Agnes Werneck, Silver Scorpion, Cassie Weasley, narglefied, JustinneXD, nessa1998, tez-chan, Evisawesome, VaneBEAR, Book-Mania-Girl520, and SecretBlack!**

**Okay, so I never really know what to say in these things—not that any of you probably care, since it's the story you're really reading for, obviously. Still, I feel obligated to say **_**something**_** . . . oooh, I know—have you ever looked up weird holidays? Maybe I'll start that. For instance, September 30 boasts National Mud Pack Day, National Chewing Gum Day, and September is National Blueberry Popsicle Month!**

**Right. Totally random. Sorry. Onto our regularly scheduled program . . .**

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Chapter 7: Come Around**

A ringing silence followed my words, and I suddenly had the strange urge to laugh, though I quickly forced it away.

Remus continued to stare at me with the same apprehensive expression on his face. Slowly, he bobbed his head up and down once.

I opened my mouth, but no words came out. Honestly, I had no idea what to say. My mind was reeling with the revelation that the person before me turned into a full-fledged monster once a month. I shivered instinctively, and Remus flinched as though I'd raised a hand to strike him.

"If you want me to go—" he started, and the bitterness in his voice brought me to my senses.

_This is Remus we're talking about. He's still the same person. _"No, don't be ridiculous," I told him firmly.

This seemed to take him by surprise, and he stood in silence once more. I couldn't help but notice that he stayed absolutely still, as though afraid that one small move might set me running and screaming in the opposite direction. The thought almost made me wince again, but I caught myself just in time. "Just . . . give me a second, okay?" I asked.

Remus nodded shortly again.

I took a deep breath, slowly letting it out as I processed the my-friend-is-a-werewolf thing. Mostly, I felt foolish, for never having realized it before. I mean, I'd patrolled with him for an entire year, during which I'd thought we were friends, but friends don't completely miss something this big about each other. _Although, he never did say much, always turning the conversation back to me . . ._ and then a horrible thought struck me. _Oh my God, how shallow must he find me? I always complained about my life as though I actually had problems, and here he was . . ._ But it was no use worrying about those things now—what was done was done, and it was time to move on. So, "Okay, well, shall we finish rounds?" I hoped my voice came out sounding normal, but something must have been off, because Remus gave me a look that was half-shocked, half-angry.

"You're—you don't—what are you—" he said in an agitated voice, seemingly unable to form a coherent sentence, and I wondered what I'd said to upset him.

"Sorry, did I say—" I started hesitantly.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Remus exploded suddenly, and I was so shocked at his outburst—I couldn't remember ever hearing him curse—that I actually took a step back. "Yeah, that's more like it," Remus said, nodding and laughing shortly.

I wondered briefly if he'd gone mad. "Er . . ." I stopped, unsure how to respond.

"You're not supposed to just need a few seconds to "think it over" and then be totally fine with it! I'm a—you aren't—"

I was starting to feel a little bit perturbed. What kind of person did he think I was? "Oh, excuse me," I said sarcastically. "Would you rather I run screaming down the hallway and never come within a five foot radius of you again? It'd make rounds rather difficult, but I suppose I—"

"No," Remus said, his voice abruptly quiet once more. In fact, he sounded a little sheepish, and I wondered if he regretted his outburst. "It's just . . . that's how most people react," he mumbled.

I raised my eyebrows, crossing my arms over my chest. "And do I look like 'most people' to you? Frankly, Remus, I'm offended that you thought I'd do that to you."

"Yeah, well, generally most people are at least a little upset to discover their friend is a monster," he said, and the self-loathing in his voice made me want to hug him. But that probably wasn't the best option at the moment, at least not until he'd calmed down and stopped acting like an idiot.

"You're not a—come here," I said, grabbing his arm. He stiffened at my touch, and I gritted my teeth together to keep from yelling at him again. Dragging him to the window, I thrust a finger at the distant moon. "Look. Not full. Therefore, you're just . . . you. I mean, I'll admit, I would be a little worried if it _was _a full moon and I was standing this close to you. I'm not stupid." I winced a little, feeling that came out a bit more insensitive than I meant it to.

But to my relief, Remus smiled slightly. "I never thought you were."

"So . . . back to rounds?" I tried again.

Remus nodded, and we started walking again.

I shot him a sideways glance. "Honestly, Remus, I thought we'd decided that Potter and Black are the idiots."

His smile was wider this time. "Sorry, I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions. It's just, well, like I said—"

"You don't exactly have many reasons _not _to expect that kind of reaction," I finished for him, nodding. "Which is just stupid and ignorant of . . . well, whoever gave you those reasons, but—wait, how did your friends react when you told them? They obviously didn't desert you."

"I didn't. Tell them, that is," he said. "Of course, they figured it out on their own quickly enough." I cringed a little, feeling like even more of a dolt. "But no, you're right, they didn't desert me. In fact, they—" he stopped suddenly, and I waited for him to continue, but he didn't. Deciding I'd processed enough unexpected information for one night, I let it slide.

"Well, I feel like a prize idiot taking this long to figure it out. And I can't believe you let me blather on about my supposed life issues when you—" I started, unable to keep my earlier fear to myself.

"Stop," Remus commanded firmly. "Please, it just makes it worse when you apologize. And it doesn't make your problems any less important. Seriously," he added when I looked at him doubtfully. "Everyone has issues, and you shouldn't feel guilty for . . . can we just call it even?" he said, a pleading note in his voice.

"Okay," I said, though I still felt bad. "So, how does it . . . work? If you don't mind my asking, that is."

"I don't, but I'm not sure I entirely understand your question."

"What I mean is, where do you go when you, you know, have to . . . go?" I felt a little embarrassed about my halting phrasing, but I didn't really know how to talk about this without offending him.

Remus smiled slightly. "You know the Whomping Willow?"

I nodded—the tree had nearly taken my head off in first year when my scarf had blown into its territory and I'd dived to retrieve it. As the traumatic encounter was all but engraved in my memory, I wasn't likely to forget the plant in a hurry.

"Well, Dumbledore actually had that planted for me."

I frowned. "What do you mean?"

"It sits directly over an underground passage to the Shrieking Shack," he explained matter-of-factly, as though this information was of no more consequence than the fact that the sky was blue. "There's a knot you can push to freeze the branches momentarily, so each month I go down there, freeze the tree, and take the passageway to the Shack. I transform down there, and—"

"The villagers think it's haunted, so there's no risk of anyone finding you," I said, catching on.

Remus nodded. "Exactly. And the Willow—theoretically—prevents students from coming across me when I'm transformed."

"Theoretically?" I repeated, not missing the hidden implications. "So, does that mean—"

"No human has seen me as a werewolf," Remus assured me. There was something in the way he phrased it that made me feel like I was missing something, but again, I decided not to question him further.

"So, the only people who know are your friends and now me?"

"And Dumbledore and the teachers, but yes, as far as I know, that's it."

"That's a big secret to keep," I commented, slightly impressed in spite of myself that he'd been able to conceal it from so many people.

Remus nodded grimly. "It is difficult sometimes, especially when Prongs and Padfoot—well, let's just say they're not always as cautious about it as I'd like them to be."

I smiled a little—that didn't surprise me in the slightest. But hearing Remus use his friends' nicknames jogged something else in my memory. "Moony," I said suddenly with new clarity.

"Mhm?" Remus said, sounding slightly surprised, but not offended, that I'd addressed him by his nickname.

I blushed. "No, I wasn't—I just realized what that meant," I finished. "Wow, I _am_ brilliant, aren't I?" I added, reddening further and wondering how I'd missed such an obvious clue.

"Well, just take comfort in the fact that you're far from the only one who hasn't caught on to that," Remus said with a wink.

"Thanks," I said sarcastically.

We walked along in silence for a bit more, and then Remus said suddenly, "Lily, I'm glad we're friends." He winced. "Merlin, that sounds cheesy, but you know what I—"

"I'm glad we're friends too," I said, smiling.

**OOOOOOOO**

"What kind of a friend are you?"

Mary's head whipped up in surprise as I flung myself into a chair across from her in the library. It had taken me nearly half an hour to locate my friend, which had only heightened my irritation.

"So, rounds went well, did they?" she asked sardonically, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, don't sit there and act all innocent," I scoffed, knowing I was being more than slightly unfair. "You knew!"

"'Fraid you'll have to be more specific than that, Lil," Mary said mildly, appearing to tolerate my inexplicable rage. For the moment, at least.

"About Remus! And that he's a—" I looked around to ensure there were no nosy onlookers and lowered my voice to the barest of whispers, "_werewolf_." Even though Remus hadn't said as much, I knew there was no other explanation for why Mary had seemed so flustered when I'd asked her about Remus's sick mother.

Mary's expression changed from confused and slightly exasperated to somber. "Yes. I knew," she admitted, with no hesitation.

"So why didn't you tell me! You always tell me everything."

"This was hardly a piece of idle gossip, Lily," Mary hissed. "I assume he told you not to tell anyone?"

Thinking back to our recent conversation, Remus had never actually said anything to me along these lines; I'd simply never considered doing otherwise.

Mary didn't wait for me to answer, but went on, "It's not something he wants to spread to just anyone, for reasons I'm sure you can grasp."

"But I'm not 'just anyone', I'm your best mate!"

"It wasn't my secret to tell! Really, Lily, I thought you were more sensitive than that."

I sighed. "No, you're right. I'm sorry, I just—I feel stupid for not figuring it out earlier, and I'm taking my frustration out on you. Sorry," I repeated.

Mary smiled grimly at me. "It's fine. And you're not stupid—Remus is just really good at hiding the truth."

"That's for damn sure," I muttered sullenly. After a few beats of silence, I added, "I still don't think it's quite sunk in, that he's—hang on, how _did _you find out?"

Mary suddenly looked uncomfortable. "It's . . . complicated," she said finally. "I overheard him, James, Sirius, and Peter talking one night in their dormitory—"

"What were you doing in their dormitory?" I interrupted sharply.

"Looking for James," she mumbled shamefacedly.

"Wait, when was this?"

"In fourth year, when you and I—"

"You've know about this since _fourth year_?" I cried incredulously, earning myself a few angry glares from those studying around us. Lowering my voice to a more acceptable level, I added, "Merlin, Mary, how did you possibly stay silent about that for so long?"

"It wasn't easy," she muttered. "Every time you brought up Remus being absent from rounds, or how he looks ill so often, or his mother . . ."

I nodded appreciatively. We fell silent again, and my mind wandered to vicious trees, and secret passageways, and painful transformations . . . shuddering involuntarily, I said, "I can't imagine having to go through that every month."

"Well, it's not so bad anymore, with—" she stopped abruptly, her blues eyes widening slightly in horror. "How much did he tell you?" she asked quickly.

"About what?" I asked apprehensively, wondering briefly if this was in any way related to what Remus had almost let slip as well.

"About them—what they—shit, he didn't tell you any of that, did he?" she demanded, noting my slowly deepening confusion.

"What do you mean, 'them'? This somehow involves Potter and the rest too?"

"No," Mary said quickly. "Pretend you didn't hear that. I'm—"

"Let me guess," I interrupted dryly. "You're not allowed to tell me?"  
Mary shook her head. "I'm sorry, Lily," she said, sounding as though she truly meant it.

"That's all right," I sighed. "I don't think I really want to know, anyway."

**OOOOOOOO**

If I'd thought that any issues surrounding my newly acquired knowledge about Remus were solely between him and me, I was sorely mistaken. As Mary and I were heading back to Gryffindor Tower later that evening, Potter practically came sprinting towards us from the opposite direction, stuffing a wrinkled piece of parchment in his pocket and looking positively frantic.

"Evans," he said, skidding to a halt in front of us, "I need to talk to you." He didn't acknowledge Mary at all.

She raised her eyebrows. "See you back in the common room, Lily."

As she walked away, I arched a brow at Potter. "Yes?"

"You can't tell anyone," he blurted out.

"What are you talking about, Potter?"

"You can't tell anyone!" he repeated more urgently, as though this would clear up the matter.

"So I've heard," I said dryly. "I can't read minds, Potter, so you're going to have to be more—"

"You know exactly what I'm talking about," Potter cut in shortly.

I felt my temper rise at his unnecessary anger. "Actually, I don't—I'm not just messing with you for the hell of it, though, being you, I could understand why you might think someone would do that—"

"Fine, Evans, let me spell it out for you," Potter said derisively.

"Good idea," I said sarcastically.

He took a deep breath, and as he let it out, he said in a rush, "You know about Remus."

Instead of satisfying me, his explanation only angered me further. "Is _that _what this is about? You're afraid I'm going to, what, put up a notice on the announcements board? Honestly, Potter, do you really think so little of me?"

Disregarding my question, Potter pressed on, "I'm serious, Evans, if you—"

"So am I! I swear to God, Potter, I won't tell anyone. I wasn't _planning _on telling anyone, even before you accosted me."

He watched me closely for a minute, and then his features relaxed and he looked about a thousand times calmer than he had a few seconds ago. "Okay. But if you so much as breathe a word to anyone—"

"You'll stab me in my sleep, _I get it_," I said in exasperation, but my anger was slowly subsiding. After all, Potter was simply looking out for his friend; I might have done the same if it had been Mary in this situation. It was, actually, sort of touching. In a completely twisted, maddening, Potter-ish way, of course.

"Well, actually, I was thinking of dropping poison in your pumpkin juice, but the logistics aren't really important," Potter said, the hint of his usual smirk tugging at his lips.

I rolled my eyes.

"And don't worry, I _do _think slightly higher of you than that," he added, the smirk fully in place now. "But only slightly."

"Fabulous," I deadpanned.

"It's just, when Remus told us he hadn't told you not to say anything—"

"—he was demonstrating his knowledge of my character, something _you _obviously couldn't be bothered to do," I finished.

Potter grinned. "Sorry, Evans. It won't happen again."

"See that it doesn't."

**OOOOOOOO**

When Peter Pettigrew came up to me after Potions the next morning, I thought the poor boy was going to wet his pants from nerves. "Er, Lily?" he said tentatively, and rather unnecessarily, as I'd already acknowledged his presence with a questioning look.

"Yes?" I said, trying not to smile.

"Can I talk to you?"

"Well, I suppose you already are, so, yes," I said, unable to help myself.

"Er . . . it's just . . ."

"Peter, is this about Remus?" I asked, to put the anxious Marauder out of his misery.

"Yes," he said, with some surprise.

"And how I shouldn't tell anyone, or you'll hurt me?"

"Ye-es, except, it'd probably be Padfoot or Prongs who'd—"

"Right, well, details aside, don't worry, I'm not planning on blabbing," I assured him. "You know Potter already talked to me about this right?"

"Well, yeah, but I just . . . you know . . ."

I smiled at him. "Well, you don't have to worry," I repeated, and Peter, looking supremely relieved, nodded and continued on his way.

**OOOOOOOO**

Because I was less pleased with him at the moment, and because I didn't really like him that much in general, and because I _was _a little sick of all the mistrust, I was much less agreeable when Sirius approached me after lunch.

Before he could even say anything, I said shortly, "I know—I know Remus's secret and I can't tell anyone on pain of death."

Sirius stopped, frowning. "You didn't know about Moony yet? Lord, Evans, where have you been the past five years? Under a rock?"  
I glared at him. "Excuse me, but I—"

Black held up a hand. "Yeah, I'm really not interested, Evans," he said, his voice suddenly harsh.

_Should have known that even Potter would get defensive about someone besides himself before Black would. _"Well, then what exactly is this about?"

"Just stay out of it, all right?"

_Honestly, did Potter and Black attend some sort of don't-explain-what-the-hell-you're-talking-about-when-you're-angry seminar? _"Yeah, you're going to have to give me more to go on, Black."

"You can't—don't think you can—James's and my problems—they're our own damn problems, not yours!"

"What?" I said, completely thrown. This was not what I'd expected him to say at all.

"I know you talked to James about—"

"He told you that?" I interrupted, unsure if this angered or merely surprised me.

"No, he told Moony, and Moony told me. But that's not the point, Evans!"

"Well, I'd gathered that," I replied, feeling slightly unsettled by how closely this was starting to resemble an argument with Potter.

"I'm serious!" Black continued, eyes flashing dangerously.

"And I'm Lily," I couldn't stop myself from adding, aware that I was probably endangering my life in doing so. "I believe we've met?"

"If you enjoy having your nose _attached _to your face, Evans—" Sirius started through gritted teeth.

"All right, all right—but I didn't seek Potter out to talk about you, you know. He's the one who brought it up. Something about me being a neutral . . .well, I don't remember exactly how he put it, but it's not like we're having weekly therapy sessions or anything. And furthermore," I continued, preventing Black from interrupting as he so obviously wanted to, "I'm at perfect liberty to let the two of you know when you're acting like complete idiots."

"When—excuse me, the _two of us?_ I am not acting idiotic in the slightest. It's Potter who's got—"

"Hey, I'm the only one who gets to call him Potter, _Black_. And stop acting all self-righteous and injured—you're being just as big a prat as he is, and you know it."

"I'll call him whatever I want! And what exactly are you saying, Evans?"

"I'm saying that it's none of your damn business who Potter does or doesn't date."

"You sound like Moony," Sirius muttered crossly.

_Probably because I stole that argument from him_, I replied silently. "Well, he's right."

"Yeah, right," Sirius scoffed. "Easy for him to say—he doesn't care about anything, just goes about life all _calm_ and unbothered . . ."

"Oh come on, Black, you know that's not true."

Sirius shrugged moodily, but it seemed like he was starting to calm down.

I sighed. "Look, I can see where you're coming from." Black looked up at me in surprise. "Really, it's not hard for me to imagine being so annoyed with Chloe that you want to shove her perfect face into a pile of frog spawn."

Sirius's lips twitched slightly.

"Or, at least, that's what I always feel like doing whenever I see her. And if your best mate's dating someone like that, then it's even worse because you're forced to be around them all the time, but, Sirius, he _is _your best mate; that hasn't changed. And even though he's acting like a bit of a prick—okay, a rather big one," I amended at the skeptical look on Black's face, "I know he hates fighting with you. He's just too stubborn to admit it."

Sirius stared at me for a long time, an unreadable expression in his grey eyes. Just as I was starting to feel slightly uncomfortable, he said, "Prongs is going to be pissed that you called me 'Sirius' before you called him 'James'."

I snorted in disbelief. "That's all you have to say? _That's _what you took from that?" But I didn't miss the renewed use of his friend's nickname, and noted it with satisfaction.

Black shrugged. "Well, he is," he said matter-of-factly.

I rolled my eyes. "I think he'll live," I said dryly.

An odd look flashed through Sirius's eyes, but it was gone before I could identify it. "Anyway, let me get this straight: you think I should apologize to him?"

I shrugged. "I guess. At least, do something, so I don't have to deal with his complaints and moodiness anymore. It's unexpectedly more annoying than his normal self."

Sirius smirked at that. "Right. Well, I can't make any promises, but I'll think about it. He _is _still dating the girlfriend from hell."

That made me smile. "Fair enough. But, really, you don't think that's likely to last, do you? I mean, he's not going to marry the girl." I felt a strange sense of déjà vu, as I basically repeated what I'd told Potter four nights ago.

"No, I expect not," Sirius said knowingly. I wondered briefly what he was thinking, but, as it was him, decided I was probably better off not knowing.

"Well, either way, I'd rather you didn't tell Potter about this conversation." I'd only just realized that I'd been undeniably defending him for the past five minutes, and the thought of how he would hold something like that over me did not please me in the slightest.

"Can't promise anything about that, either, sorry, Evans."

"Black," I said warningly.

"Okay, I won't, don't get your wand in twist," he said.

A somewhat awkward silence fell between us. It had been a very strange week where the Marauders and I were concerned, I reflected. "Right, well, I'd better . . ." I jabbed my finger vaguely behind me.

"Me too," Sirius said with a grin.

We turned to go our separate directions, but I'd barely taken two steps when Sirius called my name.

I turned questioningly. "If you do tell anyone about Remus, I know where you sleep," he said ominously.

Despite the abnormal amounts of threats to my life that I'd received in the past twenty-four hours, I couldn't help but grin as I resumed walking once more.

**

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A/N: Sorry—bit of a shorter chapter than normal….what can you do? ;)**


	9. Space Between Us

**A/N: Thanks a million to last week's reviewers: BrokenFaerie16, Fantastical Fwooper, existence555, roflshvuakomail, Hope, VaneBEAR, SecretBlack, tez-chan, Book-Mania-Girl520, skazmi, Agnes Werneck, vampire5596, Taylorcutie, and Cassie Weasley!**

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Chapter 8: Space Between Us**

"So, let me get this straight," Mary said as we started down to dinner that night. "You have, on two separate occasions, talked to James _and _Sirius to try and convince them to be friends again?"

"I would appear that way, yes," I said.

Mary stared at me for a minute. "Who are you and what have you done with Lily?" she said finally, shaking her head.

I shoved her lightly. "Stop it—it wasn't like I wanted to be in this position; I couldn't help that they both came to talk to me about it."

"Yeah, but I don't think either of them was looking for advice," Mary pointed out.

We sat down opposite each other at the Gryffindor table. "Well, they got some anyway," I said. Glancing down to where the Marauders usually sat, I was inordinately pleased to see Potter and Black once again reunited. Remus and Peter were there as well, and the four of them seemed to be conversing even more animatedly than usual. Smiling in satisfaction, I turned back to Mary, "And it looks like they took it."

She shook her head again. "I can't believe—" she started, but stopped suddenly, looking at something over my shoulder. Twisting in my seat, I was just in time to see Chloe pass me and continue on to where James was sitting. She plopped down beside him and gave him a long kiss of greeting. I saw Sirius roll his eyes, but when James and Chloe broke apart, the Marauders' conversation continued, though slightly less enthusiastically than before.

"Okay, they took part of it, anyway," I said, a little disgruntled. "Besides," I added to Mary, "don't you think there's something . . . off, when Black and Potter aren't always together?"

Mary raised an eyebrow, giving me a look as though she was worried for my sanity.

I sighed. "Yeah, you're right, I'm probably going to regret this."

Mary patted my hand sympathetically, but she was grinning now. "Oh, Lily, you've grown so much this year! Worried about James and Sirius, and selflessly sacrificing what could have been a quiet few weeks, even months, to ensure they stay friends . . ."

"Yeah, I'm _definitely _going to regret this . . ."

**OOOOOOOO**

"So, please finish reading chapter seven and complete the six accompanying work problems for next Monday," Professor Epsilon announced as we were packing up in Arithmancy on Friday.

Half of the class groaned, and I barely refrained from being among them. We'd already been assigned a monstrously long essay on Veritiserum from Slughorn, another essay for Professor Galbraithe on the difference between Inferi and ghosts, and non-verbal shield charms to practice for Flitwick.

"I know, sixth year rears its ugly head again," Epsilon said in response to the protests. "Trust me, though, this is only preparing you for next year."

"Is that supposed to be comforting?" Andrew muttered to me as we grabbed our bags and exited the classroom.

I rolled my eyes. "I hope not. Either way, I'm not looking forward to next year."

"Me neither—and I have no idea why I decided to stay in Arithmancy this year."

"Don't you want to work for Gringotts after Hogwarts?" I inquired.

"Yeah, but I'm pretty sure I'm not going to get anything resembling a passing grade on my N.E.W.T." he replied dejectedly.

"Sure you will," I said encouragingly. "For one thing, you're more brilliant at it than you think, trust me. And for another, Mary would disown me if I let you fail."

Andrew beamed at me. "Thanks, Lily. Actually, would you want to get together this weekend to work on this?" He indicated his Arithmancy book in reference to the problems we'd just been assigned. "If you wouldn't mind helping me, that is."

"Of course I wouldn't mind. Saturday afternoon work for you?" When Andrew nodded, I continued, "Great, let's plan on meeting in the library at one—and don't worry, I won't tell Mary," I added with a wink.

Andrew laughed, and another voice said from behind me, "Flirting with other people's boyfriends? I thought you had more integrity than that, Evans."

I turned to see Sirius grinning at me. He was accompanied by Potter and Chloe, who for some reason sighed in annoyance at Sirius's words, shooting him a dirty look. Black ignored this, of course, and looked at me expectantly.

Instead of answering his question, I asked, "Didn't you and Potter have Herbology just now?" I knew Remus and Peter were in Care of Magical Creatures at this time—the irony of the class for Remus suddenly struck me—which explained their absence, but there was no reason for their fellow Marauders to be on the second floor when they should have been heading to dinner from outside the castle.

"That we did," Sirius affirmed.

"So, what are you doing here?"

"We got out early," Black replied breezily, and Potter snorted.

Sirius smirked at him in reply, and I had a sneaking suspicion that their early release from class had nothing to do with Professor Greenway's generosity.

However, we'd reached the Entrance Hall by this time, and Black, Potter and Chloe split off to wait for Remus and Peter, while Andrew and I followed the rest of the students to the Great Hall. Just before we entered the double doors, Potter called out from behind us, "Hey, Evans!"

I turned to see him walking briskly towards me.

"See you later, Lily," Andrew said, continuing on into the Great Hall.

I waved to him and waited for Potter to catch up to me. When he did, he held out his hand and said, "You dropped this."

Looking down, I saw that Potter was indeed holding my quill. Frowning at him slightly, I took it and said, "Er, thanks."

"No problem," Potter replied, the hint of a smirk on his face. As he rejoined his friends, I saw Sirius laugh, and Chloe glanced at me, a vindictive look on her face. _Merlin, is she _still _jealous of me? _I wondered incredulously as I resumed my trajectory to Gryffindor table, scanning it for Mary. Not seeing her—I checked twice to make sure—I sat down near the end closest to the back of the Hall. _That's weird,_ I mused as I dished the steak stew that was tonight's dinner onto my plate. _If they got out early, why isn't she here yet? Unless they were so early that she already ate_. But that didn't seem like Mary—she'd have waited for me.

As I started eating, Marlene and Dorcas, Mary's and my roommates, sat down near me.

"You are so lucky you gave up Herbology, Lily," Marlene started irritably, spooning stew onto her own plate.

"Why?" I asked, curious as to what could have inspired her sudden hatred for the subject. "Greenway give out a lot of homework today?"

"I wish that was our only problem," Dorcas muttered resentfully. "No, we—"

But she was interrupted at that moment by Mary, who sat down across from me with a huff. "I wish I had thinner hair," she stated inexplicably. "And I think everyone else is going to regret it more than you, Lily."

"Okay, I didn't follow any of that—what are you on about?"

"Well, _someone _thought it would be funny to put Filbuster's Wet-Start Fireworks in the bottom of all the pots today in Herbology," Marlene replied in answer to my confusion. "So, when we all went to water our newly re-potted Tentacular Plants . . ." she trailed off significantly.

I winced in sympathy.

"Dirt and mud flew everywhere," Dorcas said, nodding.

"So, even though we got out early, we all had to go back to the dormitory to shower," Mary said. "Thus the reason for my plea for thinner hair. It took me three rinses to get all the dirt out. As to the regretting bit, well, no one knows exactly who planted the fireworks, but . . ." She raised a meaningful eyebrow.

I nodded, understanding the reference to our conversation a few nights back about Potter and Black's renewed friendship. Marlene and Dorcas seemed slightly confused by Mary's and my exchange, but neither commented on it.

"Anyway, despite all of that," Dorcas continued spitefully, "Greenway still assigned us three rolls of parchment on the ten uses of Tentacular leaves!"

**OOOOOOOO**

"I'll see you three later," I said to Mary, Dorcas, and Marlene after dinner as we parted on the second floor—me to the library, and the three of them back to Gryffindor Tower.

"Seriously, Lily, you're the only person I know who can do homework on a Friday night," Dorcas said, somewhat condescendingly.

But I was used to the teasing by now, and merely shrugged, waving to the three girls as they disappeared around the corner. Settling down at my favorite table with a sigh, I spread out my weekend homework and deliberated what to start first. _Well, I'm doing Arithmancy with Andrew tomorrow, so no point in looking at that yet, _I thought, shoving the book back in my bag. _The potions essay will probably be the most painful . . . but it _is _Friday, so that'd be a little harsh, even for me. So, Galbraithe's essay it is._

I'd started on a paragraph detailing the characteristics of Inferi and was sitting back to reread what I'd written so far when I suddenly gasped. Peering closer at my essay, I realized that every single word was spelled wrong. _What the—_and abruptly, the image of Sirius laughing and Chloe's gloating look appeared in my mind's eye. _Damn it, Potter, _I thought savagely. _Must've spelled my quill before he gave it back to me. _But how had I not noticed as I was writing? Experimentally, I wrote my name at the top of my parchment. It looked normal at first, but as I watched, the letters suddenly rearranged themselves to spell out "Iyll Vanes."

It would have been kind of funny if I wasn't so frustrated at the prospect of having to correct everything I'd written. _He's lucky I didn't write the entire thing before I noticed. _Reaching into my bag, I soon let out an aggravated sigh—that had been my last quill.

Abandoning my things in order to keep a claim on my table, I strode from the library, offending quill in hand. To my luck, and most likely his misfortune, I ran into Potter two floors up from the library.

"All right, Ev—" he started.

"Fix it," I interrupted, shoving the quill under his nose.

"Wha—oh, I was wondering when you'd notice that," he said with a smirk.

"Yeah, very funny—hilarious, actually, Potter, I—"

"Well, since you're no longer in Herbology with us, I just wanted to make sure you didn't miss out on all the fun," he explained. "Plus, it was just too easy to resist."

"How considerate of you," I said dryly. "So?" I added, brandishing the quill again and shaking it a little for emphasis.

Potter drew his wand, muttered something as he tapped my quill, and smiled at me. "There, all better," he said, re-pocketing his wand. "Really, Evans, maybe you do need my tutoring, if you couldn't figure out how to fix it yourself."

"I'll have you know that I could—"

"Are you serious, Lily?" a new voice rang out, and Potter and I looked around to see Severus Snape striding angrily towards us. I saw Potter's hand twitch instinctively, and I grabbed his arm to prevent him from going for his wand.

"Sev—what are you doing here?" I asked, realizing just after the words had left my mouth how stupid that question sounded.

But it was Potter who answered me. "Unfortunately, he still goes to this school—I know, bloody annoying, right? I've been trying to get him kicked out for ages, but—"

"Shut up, Potter," Severus and I said at the same time. Our eyes locked briefly, and I could have sworn Sev almost smiled, but he quickly continued, "So, the minute we stop being friends, you go and start getting all matey with _him_?"

"What are you talking about?" I demanded.

"Yeah, that's just great, Lily," Sev spat, completely ignoring my question. "I thought you couldn't _stand _him, thought he was a 'bullying toerag' . . ."

"Ouch, Evans, that's harsh," Potter said, though he was now watching Snape warily, as if expecting a fight. Which, all things considered, wasn't that unreasonable—the only thing off about it was that Potter usually started such fights, and yet this time he appeared to be on the defensive.

Severus's anger seemed to only increase with Potter's comment. "Tell me you're not friends," he said, as though asking for disconfirmation of something he already believed to be true.

"We're not," I answered, quickly and truthfully. Potter's arm twitched again under my hand, and it was then that I realized I was still holding it. I hastily dropped my hand to my side.

Sev's dark eyes followed this movement, and when he looked up at me again, I knew he didn't believe me. "You haven't forgotten everything he's done to me," he said, and he didn't phrase it as a question. "And yet I mess up once, and that's it? God, Lily, I never knew you were so hypocritical, heartless, and—"

But what else exactly I was, I never found out, because Potter's fist interrupted the rest of Severus's accusation. Slamming into his lower jaw, the punch caused Sev to stumble backwards and, tripping over the hem of his robes, he crashed to the ground in a heap.

Potter turned back to me, shaking his hand up and down. "'Bout time he shut—"

This time it was Potter's turn to be interrupted. Severus recovered more quickly than Potter or I expected, and before I could prevent it, he dove at Potter, locking his arms around Potter's middle and knocking him down. Use of wands completely forgotten, both boys began to hurtle punches and kicks at the other, each scrabbling to gain the upper hand.

"Oh, my God, stop it, both of you!" I shouted, but I might as well have whispered it for all the good it did. Forgetting my wand as well, I attempted to force them apart physically. This was a slightly more effective, but much stupider, decision. As I grabbed Severus's shoulder, he made to pull his arm back for a punch, with the result that the back of his hand connected sharply with the side of my face. I staggered backwards with a gasp of pain, and Potter and Severus immediately separated and stood up.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" I yelled, not entirely sure who I meant to address. James was sporting a split lip, and, I would imagine, several newly forming bruises. Severus's cheek was starting to swell and his nose was bleeding lightly.

"Lily, I—" he started apologetically.

"Just . . . go," I said, and for once he didn't argue, retreating down the corridor with a last, furious glare at Potter.

"Evans, are you—" Potter began.

"I'm fine, Potter," I snapped.

Potter narrowed his eyes after Snape's receding form. "I can't believe he hit you."

I snorted. "It was an accident—and you know it could just as easily have been you who did it. Why did you have to punch him in the first place?" I demanded furiously. "And _don't _say something about how 'it's the fact that he exists' . . ."

I thought for a moment that something akin to hurt flashed through Potter's eyes, but it was gone so quickly I couldn't be sure. He didn't answer however, just shrugged and dropped his gaze, staring moodily at my left knee.

"Well?" I prompted, crossing my arms.

Potter's head snapped up angrily. "I don't know, okay?" he said harshly. "It's just, what he was saying to you, it wasn't fair, and—"

"Wasn't it?" I challenged. "I don't need you to defend me, Potter." Suddenly, I realized I was no longer angry, just disappointed. Sighing, I added, "I thought that you'd—" I stopped, realizing that the word 'changed' sounded incredibly cliché, even if it was what I'd wanted to say.

Potter must have guessed it anyway, because he said, "Well, sorry to disappoint you. But it shouldn't really matter, seeing as we're not friends, after all." I was surprised to hear the bitterness in his voice. He dabbed almost angrily at the blood on his lower lip.

"You didn't think we were, did you?" I asked, wincing at how callous that sounded.

But Potter just shrugged again.

"Oh," was all I could think to say.

Potter cleared his throat, and when he met my eyes again, his were guarded, almost as though he'd intentionally put up a barrier between us. "Well, I actually came down here to find you so I could thank you for talking to Sirius," he said, his voice uncharacteristically quiet. "So, thanks." He shoved his hands in his pockets and turned away.

"Potter, wait," I said, trotting to catch up with him. He didn't slow down or look at me, so I pressed on, "Look, I—well, I didn't mean—I guess what I'm trying to say is, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to give you the wrong . . . impression, about us." I blushed faintly, realizing that this sounded like a very different type of conversation.

The left corner of Potter's mouth twitched up slightly. "Nah, I haven't exactly been friendly towards you, even—well, anyway, don't worry about it."

"Okay," I said, surprised at his abrupt switch in mood but relieved to reach a speedy end to what could have been a very awkward discussion. "And you're welcome, about Sirius—even though I told him not to tell you about our conversation."

Potter raised an eyebrow skeptically at me. "And you thought he'd honor that?"

I smiled slightly. "I suppose you have a point."

"Well, it's nice to know that even you think there's something wrong with the universe when Padfoot and I are at odds with each other."

"Throws off the chaos to calm ratio," I agreed seriously.

Potter laughed. "Well, hard as it may be to believe, it's not the biggest disagreement we've ever had," he continued.

"Really? What, did he date someone even more horrible?"

I realized too late that this wasn't exactly the kindest thing to say—after all, Potter was for some inexplicable reason still dating Chloe—but he didn't seem bothered by it. "No, it had nothing to do with a girl, actually," he said. Suddenly he frowned. "Although, I'm not sure I should be telling you this, considering—"

"Oh, now, that's not fair. I won't be able to sleep out of curiosity," I teased.

Potter glanced sideways at me. "Right, well, it has to do with Snape."

The smile slid off my face. "Oh."

"And I suppose it's possible you've already heard a version of it from him, in which case I would want to clear up the bias against me that it undoubtedly represented."

I glared at him, but didn't object to his statement, having accepted that Potter would never give up his strictures against Severus. "All right, well, go ahead, I guess. After all, if we _are _ever going to try and be friends—not that I'm in any way saying that's a real possibility—" Potter just grinned—"I should probably know all your faults."

"And who said that this is a story about my faults?" Potter asked, though he couldn't quite wipe the grin off his face.

"Just tell the damn story, Potter."

"All right, don't get your knickers in a twist. Right, so, this was back at the beginning of last year, around October 25th—and yes, I remember the exact date, you'll see why in a bit. Anyway, as you know, Snape, Sirius, and I—and often, by extension, Remus and Peter as well—have had a—a feud of sorts going for, well, basically since day one."

He paused and I glanced at him to see a wry smile on his face, as though he still wasn't sure he wanted to be discussing this with me. And, to be perfectly honest, it _was_ a little strange—after all, this had been a major source of contention between us since, well, to use Potter's words, since day one. But I had to admit, no longer being or even wanting to be friends with Severus helped considerably.

"I'm fairly certain you were also well aware of his suspicions surrounding Remus and his . . . time of the month," Potter continued.

I smirked at his choice of words, and nodded to let him know he was correct in his assumption.

"Well—and I'm still not sure why he did this—Sirius finally got fed up with the suspicion and decided it would be, er, funny, I guess, to mess with Snape a little. So, unbeknownst to me, Remus, and Peter, he found Snape on the night of a full moon and told him how to get into the Whomping Willow."

Suddenly, the second part of the conversation I'd remembered the night I'd confronted Remus about being a werewolf came back to me. I wondered why I hadn't thought of it at the time, especially since it was me who'd brought up this prank with Sev when it had happened last year. When Potter had saved his life . . . "So he did know," I said suddenly. In response to Potter's questioning look, I said, "I did hear about this, and when I confronted Sev about it later, he kept dropping huge hints about Remus, but of course I just thought he was only being horrible on purpose because he couldn't stand the fact that you'd saved his life." Potter smiled grimly. "But I wonder why he didn't just come out and say it—"

"I'll get to that," Potter assured me. "So, you basically know the rest—Snape went down to the Willow, Sirius told Peter and I what he'd done—at first I thought he was joking, because surely he wouldn't have been that stupid . . ." Potter's voice hardened slightly, and I was surprised to see that it still bothered him so much. "But, as it turned out, he really was that stupid, so I went down and . . . well, the shortened version is I got Snape out of there before—" he stopped, and a little involuntary shiver ran through me.

"So what did you and Sirius row about?" I asked.

Potter looked at me incredulously. "What didn't we row about? He could have been expelled—hell, he could have gone to Azkaban—I could have been expelled, Remus would definitely have been arrested . . . it was bad enough that Snape knew his secret—we had no idea what was going to happen. If word got out to the rest of the school, parents would be in an uproar that Dumbledore had let Remus into Hogwarts." He smiled bitterly. "They wouldn't want their children at the same school with a—" he stopped abruptly again, and when I glanced at him, I saw that his hands were clenched into fists. After a few seconds, he relaxed a little and continued, "Sorry. I just—it's maddening sometimes." He smiled again, more genuinely this time. "Remus is always accusing me of getting more worked up about the prejudice against him than he does."

"But I bet he appreciates it," I assured him, again struck by this side of Potter. I'd always known he and the other Marauders were almost as close as brothers, but I'd never really appreciated the way they all looked out for each other. "So, obviously Sev didn't tell anyone—not even me. Why?"

Potter raised his eyebrows. "I honestly don't know. He was pretty pissed at Sirius when we got back to the castle, and he wasn't too happy with me either, just by association, but I somehow managed to make him go to Dumbledore with me. We both explained what had happened—well, Snape shouted it at him while I fought to get a word in edgewise. Then Dumbledore saw us each separately, and . . . that was it. Snape's never said a word, as far as I know."

"Huh, must have been some speech Dumbledore gave him."

"I really wouldn't be surprised if he'd threatened him somehow," Potter replied.

It was my turn to raise my eyebrows. "I don't think I can picture Dumbledore threatening anyone," I said doubtfully.

"Well, whatever he said, it worked," Potter concluded.

We walked in silence for a while. "Hang on," I said eventually. "I'm still confused about something. If Sev found out about Remus, he must have seen him, right? In werewolf form, I mean."

Potter nodded, suddenly looking wary. I got the feeling he'd hoped this point wouldn't come up. "So," I continued hesitantly, "how in Merlin's name did you get him out of there? I mean, how did you escape without, you know, getting bitten?"

Potter bit his lip and didn't answer straight away. "I—can't tell you that," he said finally.

I rolled my eyes. "There's been a lot of that going around lately," I muttered.

Potter grinned. "Well, since we're not friends, I don't feel too bad about it," he joked.

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Don't think you can bribe me into being your friend," I said warningly.

We stopped outside of the portrait hole. "Oh, don't worry, Evans, I only want your friendship if it's willingly given," he said with a wink.

"Well, then, you might be waiting a while," I said.

"We'll see, Evans, we'll see."

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A/N: I'm not sure how I feel about this chapter….I don't know why, but there's just something that doesn't sit right with me. Oh well ;)  
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	10. Interlude I: Your Winter

**A/N: First, a thanks to last week's reviewers: skazmi, Taylorcutie, roflshvuakomail, emandem, (), lasting illusion, ZoneSystems, Silver Scorpion, Rainbow Twilight, chili's-girl, VaneBEAR, Cassie Weasley, and tez-chan!**

**A warning: this chapter is about half as long as all the others, but I sort of planned it that way. The stuff in this chapter encompasses my original idea for this story around which everything else was based. Well, okay, that's maybe giving this chapter a bit too much credit, but it **_**was **_**the inspiration for the story. So, to sum it up, it's been a long time coming. And as such, I wrote it straight through in about a hour and a half. Hence the early posting (it's not a bribe to placate you for the shortness of the chapter, I swear!) ;)**

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Chapter 9: Interlude I—Your Winter**

_Finally, _I thought with relief, collapsing on my bed. I stared around at my old room. It hadn't been redecorated since the summer after my first year at Hogwarts, when I'd enthusiastically decorated the walls with moving pictures of Mary and I, red and gold wall hangings, and a huge tapestry of the Hogwarts crest. So, maybe I'd been a little excited about being a witch—what twelve-year-old wouldn't be?

Now I was just too lazy to change it, though today it was particularly hard to bear. Not because I was embarrassed by my childish room—it's not like anyone but me was ever in it anyway—but because it reminded me of the place I'd left not twenty-four hours ago, the place to which I was already longing to return.

I mean, don't get me wrong, I loved seeing my parents. And Christmas was a time for family, so I would feel incredibly guilty staying at school for the entire holiday. But home also meant Petunia. And her snide comments and dirty looks were something I could definitely do without. Hence escaping to my room at the earliest possible moment.

I'd lied to my mother in third year and told her Mary spent all of Christmas at Hogwarts, and since then we'd worked out a deal that I'd spend the first half of my holidays at home and return to Hogwarts three days after Christmas. I'd played on her sympathies, telling her how bad I felt leaving Mary _all alone_ . . . hey, it hadn't been a complete lie—she did spend every other Christmas at school (I'd never quite worked out why), and I did feel bad leaving her, but it was for completely selfish reasons. I was the one who was left "alone"; Mary didn't mind in the slightest, especially since she and Andrew had started dating. He also spent his holidays at Hogwarts—maybe Christmas wasn't such as family-oriented holiday after all.

It was in this state of loneliness and, I'll admit, slight self-pity, that Potter's letter found me. Yes, you read that right. James Potter sent me a letter over the holidays. And not just one . . . but I'm getting ahead of myself.

It was after dinner on my first night home that I'd made excuses to my parents about being tired from the train ride and fled to the solitary quiet of my room. Despite it being an excuse, I almost did drop off to sleep, but was jerked to full consciousness by a tap on my window.

Because the sight didn't really fit with my usual experience at home, I merely stared at the owl bobbing up and down outside for a long moment before coming to my senses and letting it in, along with a cold blast of air. It flew to my dresser, hooted once, and held out its leg, to which was attached a small scroll of parchment.

"Sorry I didn't open the window right away," I apologized as I untied the parchment. "It's just, I think you're the first owl to ever come to my house." As my parents were Muggles, I got my yearly booklists and beginning of term letters from Hogwarts in the Muggle post—well besides the first year; Dumbledore had come himself, a terrifying visit for me and my parents alike.

My surprise upon finding an owl outside my room, however, was nothing compared to the shock I felt when I'd unrolled the letter it bore.

_Evans,_

_Hope home isn't as horrible as you were dreading. So far, you've already missed twelve games of Exploding Snap between Sirius, Peter, Remus and I (and even you couldn't have been annoyed by it, as we don't have homework—though, of course, I wouldn't've put it past you to be annoyed anyway), three epic snowball fights with the entirety of the remaining Gryffindors (the Marauders have more influence than you may have realized) and the fabulous food they always serve during the holidays. Okay, so that doesn't sound as incredible as it did in my head, but trust me, you should be jealous._

_James_

I don't know how long I stared at the paper, but it must have been long enough, because I suddenly felt a sharp pain in my finger, courtesy of the owl. "Ouch!" I said, dropping the letter and sticking my finger in my mouth. "Well, I retract my earlier apology," I told the owl angrily, my words coming out slightly distorted around my finger. Bending to pick up the letter, which had landed front side down, I noticed a further message on the back in Potter's messy scrawl.

_P.S. I may or may not have told the bird to bite you until you wrote back. Hey, no one's perfect, right?_

Glaring at the words as though they were Potter himself, I marched over to my desk, grabbed a parchment and quill, and hastily penned a reply.

_Potter,_

_You're a horrible person. And it's rude to eavesdrop._ (After all, there was no way he could have known I was dreading going home unless he'd overheard my conversation with Mary just before I left).

_L.E._

Smirking because I knew the short and pointed reply would annoy him, I tied it to the waiting owl and sent him once more into the wintry air. Closing my window and shivering in the frigid breeze it had admitted, I sat down on my bed, frowning. _What the hell? Why did Potter write to me? I thought I'd made it perfectly clear that we were not friends—besides, not even Mary writes to me over the winter holidays, as I'm only gone for two weeks. And why did he sign it 'James'? _But I answered that question fairly easily. Why wouldn't he sign his own letter with his first name? It's not like he was required to refer to himself the same way I did. _Right, I'm overthinking this. I really need to work on that. _Putting Potter and his mysterious ways firmly out of my mind, I changed into my pajamas and went to sleep.

However, the letters didn't stop. I received no less than eleven letters from Potter in those two weeks at home. And, without quite knowing why, I replied to every single one of them.

~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~_  
_

_L.E.,_

_I prefer the term 'selective listening.' And that was quite a short response—now who's being rude?_

_James_

Potter,

I'm sorry (note the sarcasm). I suppose the **pain in my finger** made me a little snappish.

L.E.

_Evans,_

_Yeah, sorry about that (no sarcasm to note here—honest). In retrospect, it wasn't the best move. But since when have I been one of the world's best thinkers, right? Anyway, you never answered my question (and, before you say it, _I KNOW _it wasn't phrased as a question, but a question was implied nonetheless): How is home?_

_James_

It's—hang on, why do you care? Oh sod it, I'll just tell you anyway. It takes too long for you to respond—and I wouldn't want you to make the owl **bite** me again if I only sent that first question. Home is . . . fine, I suppose. I just like to complain.

L.E.

_Well thanks for the conversation with yourself (tally up the sarcasm this time). As for the owl thing, just **let it go **would you? Sheesh, Evans, you sure know how to hold a grudge. And I don't believe you about home being 'fine.' I can tell when you're lying, Evans, even on paper._

_James_

Congratulations—sorry, I don't have your certificate ready, but I'll give it to you when I get back to Hogwarts (do I even need to say it?) Joking aside (because some of us are capable of doing that), you are, unfortunately, right. Home isn't really fine. I mean, parts of it are. The parts that aren't my sister. Because I know you'll just ask anyway, let me tell you about her. She hates magic, and therefore me, by extension. If I had to sum up our relationship in one sentence, that would be it. She didn't always hate it, of course, but it did always frighten her a little. Whenever I would do anything 'odd' she'd immediately tell me to stop. And when we found out that what I could do was magic, well, I think she was jealous. Understandable, of course. She actually wrote to Dumbledore asking him to let her in to Hogwarts—a little funny, but mostly sad. And when he—obviously—refused (kindly, of course), I think that was it for Tuny. We stopped being friends. And that's that.

Merlin, can't believe I just told you all that. Well, too late now.

L.E.

_Well, Evans, I must say that was a very friend-like thing to confide in me. And before you protest, let me ask you this: why have you kept writing to me?_

_James_

~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~_  
_

I couldn't really answer his question, because I wasn't at all sure why I didn't just stop writing back. It wasn't like I missed Potter. In fact, that had always been one of the perks of coming home—two blessedly Potter-free weeks. But . . . and it was that 'but' that scared me. It meant something was different. I mean, first of all, the run-in with Severus near the end of term would usually lead to my strict refusal to ever speak to Potter again beyond what was absolutely necessary (somehow, I'd always failed to keep that up even when Sev and I were still friends . . . but I digress). Obviously, things were different on that end, had been ever since the end of last year. And I knew I was going around slightly in circles (don't really know how one goes around in circles 'slightly'—what, is that like going around in ovals? And I'm off topic again . . .), but I couldn't help dwelling on the point. I had to figure it out soon, or risk being stuck in this weird pseudo-friendship limbo with Potter forever.

But of course I couldn't say anything like that in a letter (nor would I say it to him in person, come to that), so I resorted to being sarcastic and a little callous—my modus operandi with Potter.

~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~_  
_

You switched owls. And don't flatter yourself, Potter—I'm just bored. Why'd _you_ start writing to _me_, anyway?

L.E.

_Ouch. You know just how to cut a man down, don't you? But, fair enough, I suppose. As to your question, I guess I was 'just bored' as well (if you keep glaring like that, you're going to develop awful wrinkles). Besides, you don't have an owl, so it's not like you could have started the correspondence. And, as to the switch, I had to start using a school owl because mine has understandably become exhausted by all the letters you've been sending me. On a more serious note (contrary to popular opinion—read 'yours' here—I can be serious) I doubt your sister actually hates you._

_James_

She calls me 'freak' more often than 'Lily'. It's starting to get a bit old, actually. She really needs to come up with a new insult. Thanks for giving me the benefit of the doubt, though.

L.E.

And I'm not even going to comment on the subtle hint behind your 'all the letters' bit.

_It's almost hard for me to say this, what with that thanks of yours. Ah well, it was only a small step forward (and, like I said before, I'm not really one to think before acting. Or writing, as the case may be). I'm not entirely sure that your sister means 'freak' as an insult, Evans. Either way, I see what Moony means now by 'Lily's dear (sarcasm—yes, even Remus uses it sometimes) sister.' She really does sound like a joy to be around._

_James_

_And I wasn't hinting at anything—you're overthinking things, Evans._

You have a very skewed sense of the meaning of friendship, Potter. Though you did admit you fully understood that your comment wouldn't further the process, so I'll give you that. And yes, Remus knows all about my lovely sister. Just one of the many things we've discussed **as friends **over the years. And, I'll have you know, he was perfectly sympathetic about the 'freak' thing. By the way, tell Remus I'm sorry about the moon's unfortunate timing. I hope he has a Happy Christmas anyway.

L.E.

And I never overthink anything.

_Emphasizing how you and Moony are friends based on all these supposed 'discussions' you two have had doesn't really help your case, considering all you just told me about your sister. Speaking of Moony, he thanks you for your concern, but it's had worse timing, and he should be fine by Christmas Day._

_Just two more points, and then I'll shut up about the f-word, I swear: you study on Friday nights and Hogsmeade weekends, and you've never been to a Quidditch game._

_James_

_And I know that's bullshit, Evans—overthinking is just one of your many endearing qualities. (May I also add that I quite like this second conversation within a conversation that we've started, though I've noticed we've unoriginally begun every part of it with 'and.')_

No comment.

L.E.

Fine. I suppose I overthink some things. But who doesn't? No, don't answer that, because I know you'll just make some snarky little comment. There, broke the cycle of 'ands'.

_Fine (two can play this game)._

_James_

_Thank Merlin—well done. And (oops, just ignore that one) even I overthink things sometimes, Evans. There, that'll give you something to brood over when you can't sleep. Oh, and Happy Christmas!_

The second conversation thing is getting a little ridiculous, so I've opted to move it into the actual conversation (as that appeared to be going nowhere). Wow, I just re-read what I wrote, and I think writing to you has actually started to mess with my head, because that sounded absurd. . . anyway, moving on. I have never, nor will I ever, think about you when I can't sleep, Potter. And I don't brood over you, either.

Happy Christmas to you as well—hope you got everything you ever wanted (yes, sarcasm rears its ugly head again).

L.E.

_Oh good, the sarcasm is back. I was starting to miss it. I never accused you of brooding over anything, I just gave you something to brood about, should you ever choose to engage in the activity. I wouldn't necessarily recommend it, though it can offer a nice change of pace if you're normally happy all the time. Oh, sorry, forgot who I was talking to._

_James_

_I did get everything I wanted, by the way. Well, almost everything._

Ha, ha. I'm happy most of the time, just not when I'm forced to be around you (so I can see how that would give you a distorted perception). Doesn't mean I wouldn't be open to the occasional brood, if the situation presented itself. Though if I really wanted a change of pace, I could just go to a Quidditch game, I suppose.

L.E.

_Yes! I knew I could persuade you! Our next match is against Hufflepuff on March 7th._

_Well, according to my sources, you'll be back tomorrow, so I suppose this is my last letter. Thanks for humoring me and carrying on this little correspondence, even if it was only out of boredom._

_James_

I wasn't aware that you were trying to persuade me of anything. The comment at the end of my last letter was sarcasm again anyway, by the way—I apologize for not identifying it as such.

I'm assuming that by 'sources' you mean Mary. Either way, you're right, and you're welcome.

Lily

~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~

I'd written my name instead of my initials unconsciously, but I didn't really feel like using up another piece of parchment with a re-write, so I left it (_let him 'brood' over it_) and sent it off with Potter's latest choice of owl—we'd moved onto a third. Sitting back in my chair, I sighed. Would it be weird to see Potter again? _Were _we friends now? It had been surprisingly easy, even enjoyable, talking to him via letters. But he was somehow always more difficult to deal with in person. _I guess I'll just have to see what happens tomorrow._

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A/N: I wish FF would let you do fonts! I had such cool ones for the letters! Nevertheless, I had fun writing this, and I hope you had fun reading it! And I hope you're not too mad that it's short—next chapter (of the regular length, I promise!) up in a week!**


	11. Wrong the Right Way

**A/N: Well, I'm glad most of you enjoyed the letter-themed chapter last week :) Thanks to everyone who reviewed: marinewife08, roflshvuakomail, Silver Scorpion, gabiellexx, Cassie Weasley (LOVED the AVPM reference ;) Made me laugh), BrokenFaerie16, Sam-EvansBlue, existence555, and ZoneSystems!**

**And on with the story!**

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Chapter 10:** **Wrong the Right Way**

I got back to Hogwarts late on the night of December twenty-eighth, so when I entered the common room, it was essentially empty. I tried to pretend I wasn't relieved to not have to face Potter yet as I trudged upstairs to my dormitory. Needless to say, I failed miserably. Who was I kidding? I was, whether justified or not, terrified about talking to him in person. _You're being ridiculous, Lily, _I chided myself as I quietly got ready for bed so as not to wake my sleeping roommates. _There's absolutely nothing to be nervous about. It's _Potter_, for Merlin's sake!_

"You're back!" a voice whispered to my right, causing me to nearly jump out of my skin with fright. But it was only Mary, grinning around her bed hangings.

"Merlin, Mary, you almost gave me a heart attack," I admonished, though I was glad to see her. "I didn't know you were still awake."

"Well, I was sort of just lying in bed waiting for you," she confessed. "So, how was your Christmas?"

I shrugged. "Oh, it was all right, you know," I said evasively. "My mum got me some really nice pearl earrings, Dad gave me a set of first edition Jane Austen novels—er, she's my favorite Muggle author," I explained in response to Mary's questioning look, "and even Petunia wasn't completely horrible, though she only gave me a box of chocolates—really disgusting ones, too, with fruit filling and—" I stopped suddenly, because Mary was watching me shrewdly. "What?" I asked.

"There's something you're not telling me," she accused. "On purpose."

"What do you—"

"You're babbling on at about a million miles an hour about . . . well, nothing, really—"

"Wow, thanks," I said dryly. "And you're the one who asked—"

"Just spit it out, Lily," she demanded.

I sighed. _Sometimes I hate that she knows me so well, _I thought ruefully. "Fine," I conceded. "But you have to _promise _you won't freak out, especially since Marlene and Dorcas are sleeping, and I _do not _want them to know. And you can't bring up any of your 'theories', or—"

"Wait, this is something about James?" Mary asked with interest, hopping onto my bed beside me like an excited puppy.

"Unfortunately, yes," I muttered. Digging in my bag for the letters—the reason I kept them was a whole other issue I didn't relish getting into—I said, "I was just sitting there, minding my own business, when an owl appears outside my window." Mary raised her eyebrows, appreciating the oddity of this occurrence. "And it's carrying this." I handed her James's first letter, organizing the others in order as she read it.

When she finished, she looked up at me, frowning. "That's odd."

"Right? And read what's on the back." Mary flipped the paper over, read the sentence written there, and gave me a questioning look. In answer, I thrust my injured finger under her nose. She snorted quietly. "Thanks for your concern," I said, rolling my eyes.

"So, you wrote back?" Mary inquired.

"Contrary to all logic, yes," I said. "And thus began some weird pen-pal . . . thing." I handed her the rest of the notes.

Mary read them all, her face betraying no emotion. She could do that when she wanted, and it infuriated me. I wasn't very good at keeping my feelings off my face; it was part of what made me a bad liar. When Mary was finished, she looked up at me, blue eyes solemn. "Lily, I think he's still in love with you."

That had been the last thing I'd been expecting. Though, seeing as it was Mary, I suppose I shouldn't have been too surprised. "Mary!" I hissed at her. "I told you, no crazy theories!"

"This _isn't _a crazy theory! It's the truth!"

I rolled my eyes again. "How could you possibly even tell from those?"

"I just—it's just a feeling I have," she replied cryptically.

I sighed. "A feeling," I repeated. "Right, that's a lot to go on."

Mary frowned at me. "Well, I don't know, Lily, ask James about it if you really want to know."

"I'm not—yeah, that wouldn't be an awkward conversation at all," I said sarcastically. "'Hey, Potter, hope you had a good holiday—by the way, just wondering, but are you still in love with me?' Plus, hang on, I thought we'd decided he wasn't ever in love with me?"

"No, _you _decided that, after he told you all that stuff in Potions about him only asking you out for fun. _I_, rightfully, said that it was all complete bullocks, and that he—"

"Yes, all right, I remember," I interrupted her irritably.

"Why are you so worked up about this, anyway?"

"Why is Potter still dating Chloe?" I countered.

Mary blinked. "What? That's completely unrelated."

"No it's not; it's a perfectly legitimate argument against the 'Potter is in love with me' theory. Because I'll bet breaking it off with her would have made it a lot easier for him to make up with Black, but he didn't, he's still dating her. Which _means_—"

"I don't know, you'll have to ask James about that too," Mary said. Before I could remind her that I would under no circumstances discuss any of this with Potter, she added, "But what I meant was, your question was completely unrelated to mine. Which you still haven't answered, by the way." She folded her arms across her chest, waiting.

"I'm not worked up about it," I protested. "I'm just wondering if this means I have to be friends with Potter." _Because that thought kind of makes me want to dive under my covers and never emerge into the light of day again, _I added silently, my hand twitching involuntarily towards my bedsheets.

"You don't 'have to' do anything," Mary said. "But I think you're overthinking this whole thing, Lily."

I looked at her sharply to see if she was joking, having just read Potter's letters. But she looked serious enough. "Okay. Well, that's . . . comforting, I suppose." _Now, if I can actually convince myself of that and STOP THINKING ABOUT IT!_

As I pulled my bed hangings shut, a slip of paper fluttered down onto my bed. Picking it up, I squinted at it, and my stomach did a weird kind of flip as I recognized the messy handwriting.

_Welcome back, Evans._

"Merlin, Godric, and Agrippa," I muttered, balling up the piece of paper and tossing it on the floor. I pulled my covers roughly back from my bed and forcefully shoved all thoughts of James Potter out of my head.

**OOOOOOOO**

I slept late the following morning, with the result that even Mary had grown tired of waiting for me and gone to breakfast. Dressing in comfortable clothes, I descended the dormitory stairs. I'm embarrassed to say that I actually held my breath as I entered the common room, but it was once again bereft of Potter's presence. Smiling happily, I practically skipped to the portrait hole. Glancing back to make sure I hadn't somehow missed him, I ran straight into someone trying to enter the room just as I was leaving it.

"Oof," I said, as whoever it was put out a hand to steady me. "Sor—" I started, but my voice died in my throat as I looked up to see Potter smiling down at me. _Of bloody course, _I thought wryly. My spirits descended further when I saw that Chloe was attached to the hand that Potter wasn't currently using to hold me up. _Well, that's just sodding perfect. _I quickly shook free of Potter's grasp and attempted to arrange my face into a nonchalant expression. "Potter," I said, a little coolly.

"Evans," he returned with a nod. "Made it back in one piece I see."

"Yes, it was rather touch and go there for a minute, but I pulled through," I said sardonically.

Potter's grin widened. If I wasn't mistaken, there was a playful glint in his eyes, as though we were sharing an inside joke. And I didn't like it. "So, you off to breakfast?" When I nodded, he continued, "I'd recommend the scones—they're quite excellent this morning."

I fought a smile—he sounded like some eighteenth century upper class snob. "Right, thanks—I'll keep that in mind," I replied, raising my eyebrows slightly.

With one last grin, Potter and Chloe (well, she didn't grin at me) disappeared into the common room. I shook my head and started along the corridor to the stairs. _That wasn't as unbearable as I was expecting, _I thought, somewhat relieved. _Of course, Chloe didn't say anything, as usual. Honestly, that girl is ridiculous. I really think she's still je—_I stopped suddenly, a thought occurring to me. _She's always been jealous of me. And I've continually blown it off, because it's just absurd, but . . . what if it's not unfounded? I mean, girls are supposed to be able to pick up on this stuff, right? So, what if this means Mary is right? _I immediately scoffed at the idea. _I cannot be seriously thinking about using what _Chloe _thinks as evidence. Besides, I haven't even been awake for half an hour and I'm already thinking about this again—pathetic. _So, for the second time since my return to Hogwarts, I cleared my mind of all things Potter-related.

When I entered the Great Hall, I noticed that Mary was still sitting at the Gryffindor table. The reason for her lengthy breakfast immediately became apparent as I saw Andrew seated across from her—no one really paid attention to House tables over the holidays.

"Morning," I greeted them as I sat down.

"Hey, Lily—how was your Christmas?" Andrew asked.

With a warning half-glance at Mary, who raised her eyebrows innocently, I said, "It was fine, thanks, how was yours?"

"Good. I got a new broom from my parents—Nimbus 1000." The way he said this made me feel like I should be impressed, but the information really meant nothing to me.

"Nice," I said appreciatively, pretending I gave a shiny unicorn's horn about broom models. "Well, maybe I'll have to come see you play sometime."

Both Mary and Andrew stared at me like I'd sprouted a second head. "I'm sorry," Mary said, shaking herself slightly, "did Lily Evans just voluntarily suggest that she might want to go to a _Quidditch _game?"

"That's what I heard," Andrew agreed.

I rolled my eyes. "Don't be so dramatic, you two. Maybe I'm just looking for a change of pace." I smirked a little as I quoted one of my letters to Potter. This was, after all, part of my motivation to attend a Ravenclaw game—I didn't want to go just because Potter suggested it, so if Gryffindor wasn't playing in my first ever Quidditch match, I figured he couldn't be too smug about it. Though it was Potter, so that was no guarantee. "Besides, Mary, you're always telling me I have to go to one before we leave."

"Well, our next match is against Slytherin the first Saturday of term," Andrew said, still looking surprised at my sudden interest.

"Perfect." Suddenly, a thought occurred to me. "Hey, Andrew, have you ever been in the Ravenclaw girls' dormitory?"

Andrew choked on his pumpkin juice and Mary gave me a look that said 'why would you ask that?'

I winced. "Sorry, that came out wrong, I just meant . . . well, I was curious whether it was possible."

"We're not allowed, are we," Andrew said matter-of-factly, as though this answered the question. But that clearly hadn't stopped Potter.

Evidently Mary wasn't convinced either. "That doesn't mean you haven't done it. Well, have you?" she demanded.

Andrew seemed to realize he was on dangerous territory, because he chose his next words with care. "I tried once—"

But apparently not carefully enough. "To see a girl?" Mary interjected, the hint of jealousy springing into her voice.

Andrew gave her a withering look. "Well, obviously, Mary," he said. "What else would one do in the _girls'_ dormitory? But it was on a dare, and I never made it anyway, because it's physically impos—"

"Oh, a dare, was it?" Mary asked, her eyebrows threatening to disappear into her hairline. "So why didn't you mention that right away?"

"Because you jumped in before I'd barely gotten three words out!"

"You could have started with that part!"

"Right, well, I'm just going to . . ." I started, trying to make a hasty exit. Neither Mary nor Andrew was paying me any attention. "Right—see you," I said, grabbing my half-finished stack of toast and nearly sprinting from the Great Hall. _Well, that went well. I started a fight between my best friend and her boyfriend, and I still don't know how Potter got that note into my bed hangings._ I cringed at the thought of Potter anywhere near my bed.

**OOOOOOOO**

When I got back to the common room, it was rather full—though there were overall fewer students around over Christmas, no one had any work to do, so most just hung around the common room all day. I didn't mind the crowd as I would have if I'd had homework, and decided to grab one of my new books and spend the day reading.

As I entered my room, I found myself face-to-face with my roommate Marlene, bundled up in a coat, scarf, hat, and mittens. "Hey, Lily! A bunch of us are heading out for a snowball fight—wanna come?"

"No thanks, I think I'm just going to read." I continued towards the trunk at the end of my bed when Marlene said something that made me freeze in my tracks.

"What's going on between you and James?"

Once my heart had resumed beating, I turned to face her. She was looking at me expectantly, her eyes alight with the possibility of new gossip. "Er, nothing," I said, frowning at her.

She smiled knowingly. "Okay, sure," she said mysteriously.

"Honestly, there's not!" I replied, a little peeved. "Who told you that anyway?"

But Marlene just waved over her shoulder at me as she shut the dormitory door. I sighed in frustration. _Would Mary have said anything? No, she wouldn't do that. I will literally murder her if she did. Which leaves . . . what? Random gossip springing up about Potter and me for no reason? Maybe people are just really bored. _I told myself I didn't really care—unlike most people, I didn't mind others gossiping about me if it wasn't true. Which, I suppose, is basically the definition of gossip, but you get the point.

Shaking off Marlene's comment, I deliberated briefly over _Pride and Prejudice _and _Sense and Sensibility _before choosing the former. When I reemerged in the common room, I found a large number of people dressed similarly to Marlene, the Marauders, of course, among them.

"Evans, you want to join us?" Potter called from near the portrait hole. "We'll wait for you." Chloe, standing near him, shot him a disbelieving look, and that was almost enough to tempt me to say yes. But I really preferred staying warm and _dry_.

"Thanks, but I don't really enjoy having cold wet stuff flung at my face," I replied. "You have fun, though." Chloe looked at me in some surprise, and I nodded slightly to her, trying to convey that there was not in any way a competition between us. Though it was fun to annoy her, I felt that it would be unwise to encourage the rumors that apparently surrounded Potter and I.

Potter shrugged. "Suit yourself. All right, everyone, let's go!"

As the talking and laughing group departed, I took advantage of the Marauders' absence to filch one of their seats by the fire. Settling in with a sigh, I prepared to lose myself in the world of stubborn Elizabeth Bennet and haughty Mr. Darcy.

**OOOOOOOO**

I was just getting to the Netherfield ball—one of my favorite parts—when the snowball fight crew returned, considerably wetter and more pink-cheeked than when they'd left. After changing into dry clothes, James, Peter, Remus, and Sirius, predictably, headed straight over to where I was sitting, plopping down in their usual places. "You're in Wormtail's seat," Potter informed me conversationally.

"Oh, sorry," I said to Peter, half-rising.

Potter waved a hand carelessly. "Don't be silly, Evans, he can sit somewhere else for a day. I wouldn't want to interrupt what looks like a thrilling book," he said, tilting his head to try and read the title.

"_Pride and Prejudice_," I said helpfully, "so, unfortunately, that title's already taken—guess you'll have to find something else to call your autobiography." Remus and Sirius snorted, and before Potter could retort, I said to Peter, "Really, if you want this chair, I don't mind moving."

"No, it's fine," he assured me. "I don't have an obsessive need to sit in the same spot every time like some people," he said, his eyes shifting to where Potter sat.

I laughed at this unexpected jibe from Peter.

"That is completely untrue, Wormtail," Potter protested.

"Actually, he has a point, Prongs," Remus chimed in. "You never concentrate as well if we have to sit, say, over by the windows. And you complain about it every five minutes."

"That's because it's bloody cold by the windows." When his friends continued to look at him doubtfully, he sighed. "Oh, sod off, you pricks," he muttered. "Just because I like sitting by the fire doesn't mean I have an _obsessive need _for it . . ."

"That's not all you have an obsessive need for," Sirius said, his voice casual but his mischievous smile hinting at another meaning.

Potter glared harshly at his friend. "You are on thin ice, Padfoot," he said through clenched teeth.

I raised my eyebrows at what seemed to me like an extreme reaction. "Now, don't start fighting again already," I said dryly. "I'm not going to patch up your friendship this time."

Before Sirius or Potter could respond, Chloe appeared. She glanced briefly at me, then looked at Potter. "Okay, I'm ready."

"Right," Potter said, standing. "We'll be right back," he added to the rest of us with a wink.

"Make sure you add extra cinnamon," Remus said.

"And don't forget the peppermint sticks," Sirius added.

"And the extra-puff marshmallows," Peter requested.

"It's like you don't know me at all," Potter said, feigning indignation. "Have I ever forgotten those things?"

"There was that one time in fourth year—" Peter started.

Potter rolled his eyes. "You're never going to let me live that down, are you, Pete? Well, I _promise _I won't forget anything this time."

And with that confusing exchange, they were gone.

"Sorry, where are they going?" I asked.

"To get hot chocolate," Remus replied, as though this should be obvious.

"Right," I said sarcastically. "Is that what they're calling it these days?"

Remus frowned at me. "Calling what?"

I rolled my eyes and returned to my book. However, fifteen minutes later, Chloe and Potter did indeed return with a large stack of mugs, a bag of giant marshmallows and peppermint sticks, and a steaming pot of what I assumed must be hot chocolate levitated between them.

"You really did mean hot chocolate," I said disbelievingly.

"Why else would we have asked for all those other things, Evans?" Sirius asked.

"I don't know," I mumbled, a little embarrassed that I'd immediately assumed it was a euphemism. "Just to . . ." but I didn't really know how to finish that sentence, and trailed off into silence. It didn't matter, however, because everyone was now thoroughly distracted by the arrival of the delicious hot beverage. I watched as Potter and Chloe passed out steaming cups and Remus, Peter, and Sirius all added their choice of additional sweets to their drinks.

I accepted Potter's proffered cup and added some marshmallows. "Where did you get this, anyway?" I asked him.

"From the kitchens," he replied, as though explaining a difficult concept to a five-year-old. "You might have heard of them, Evans, they're a place where—"

I threw a marshmallow at him. Wet with hot chocolate, it stuck to his face. He just grinned, pulled it off, and popped it in his mouth.

"And you know where the kitchens are because . . ."

Sirius shook his head disappointedly. "Honestly, Evans, think about who you're talking to." Turning to Potter, he continued, "Really, Prongs, sometimes this girl is so thick—"

"Just answer the sodding quest—"

"They found it at the end of their first year," Chloe said unexpectedly.

Even though she sounded slightly smug that she knew something about the Marauders I didn't—hardly an impressive feat, as I was quickly discovering—I didn't miss the fact that it was nearly the first thing she'd ever said to me. _Look, we're making progress, _I thought, only slightly mockingly. Aloud, I said, "First year—bored much?" Though I was impressed in spite of myself.

"More like hungry much," Remus said, jabbing a thumb at Sirius.

"Where do you think we get all the food for Quidditch parties?" Potter asked.

I shrugged. "And no one noticed you bringing all this up here?" I said instead, indicating the hot chocolate and supplies.

Potter gave me an infuriatingly patronizing look. "Evans, it's the holidays. The teachers are hardly ever around."

"All right, but what about when they _are _around?" I pressed, refusing to be deterred.

"A certain cloak comes in rather handy at those times," Potter replied airily.

"So, is this sort of thing a regular occurrence?" I asked, a little amused now.

Sirius shrugged. "Somewhat. However, as you've never particularly cared for our company, I suppose it's not surprising that you wouldn't have noticed," he added with a smirk.

"Well, I've certainly realized my mistake," I replied sarcastically.

"What are you doing here, anyway?" Peter asked, but he sounded curious rather than annoyed.

"Er, well, I sort of started a fight between Mary and her boyfriend at breakfast . . ." I said ashamedly.

"Well done, Evans," Potter said appreciatively.

I rolled my eyes at him.

"What was the fight about?" Chloe asked, again taking me by surprise.

"It's—not really that important," I said evasively. I could think of several reasons not to relate that story to this particular audience.

"Well, speaking of parties," Potter began.

"When were we speaking of parties?" Remus asked.

"I don't know, about three minutes ago?"

"You can hardly say 'speaking of parties' when it was that long ago," Remus said.

"Anyway," Potter said pointedly, "you coming to the New Year's party on Friday, Evans?" he asked.

I shrugged. "Nothing else to do, I guess."

"Good—it's going to be excellent," Potter said.

"We're planning it," Sirius added, as though this proved Potter's point.

"Well, then, it's certainly going to be interesting."

**

* * *

A/N: So, I totally planned to have the New Year's party in this chapter, but then my crazy brain came up with all this other plot stuff . . . so I hope you liked it! Guess you'll just have to wait a week to hail in 1977 ;)**


	12. Champagne High

**A/N: Merci mon fantastique reviewers (and I don't actually speak French, so sorry if the grammar's wrong): yandc, jak23, Heiress of Lohaust, MaryandMerlin, BrokenFaerie16, Silver Scorpion, marinewife08, Taylorcutie, chili's-girl, Cassie Weasley, and mee!**

**So, sort of on a whim, I pre-ordered that Harry Potter Film Wizardry book from Amazon—it arrived yesterday, and It. Is. Awesome! Okay, I haven't actually read any of it yet, but I'm already ridiculously (and probably a little pathetically) excited about the extras that I didn't know came with it. Such as a mock-up of the Marauder's map; copies of props like ads from Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, an invitation to the Yule Ball, and the program from the Quidditch World Cup; and STICKERS!**

**Anyway, Happy New Year, and on to the next chapter!**

**

* * *

Chapter 11: Champagne High**

Mary didn't return to Gryffindor tower until later that night. I'd relocated to the window seat between our beds to read in relatively more peace than a seat by the Marauders allowed, but looked up warily when my best friend entered the dormitory. To my surprise, she was dressed for the outdoors, though I didn't remember seeing her from my vantage point in the common room at all that day.

"Hey," I said tentatively, bracing for her accusations concerning the argument I'd catalyzed that morning.

But she just greeted me in return and asked what I was reading. "Er, _Pride and Prejudice_," I answered, "but, hang on, aren't you mad at me?"  
"For what?" Mary asked, blue eyes clouded with confusion.

"You know, this morning, when I—"

"Oh, that," Mary said, waving a careless hand. "We—Andrew and I—have made up, don't worry. Have you been here the whole day?" she continued, indicating the window seat I was perched on. "Because when I came back to get my coat, I don't remember seeing you."

"No—I was in the common room, though. Were you outside this entire time?"

"Yeah. I joined Andrew and some of his Ravenclaw friends for a snowball fight and then we went on a long walk."

"Sounds . . . cold," I decided. Mary grinned—she knew my dislike for winter well.

"Don't worry—we found plenty of ways to keep warm," she said with a wink.

I rolled my eyes. "Well, I've had a bit of a strange day," I confessed.

Mary raised an inquisitive eyebrow and joined me on the window seat. "Do tell."

I set my book on the small table beside my bed. "First, I ran into Marlene on my way up here after breakfast, and she asked if there was anything 'going on' between Potter and me." I paused to get Mary's reaction.

She shrugged. "I haven't heard anything," she said, knowing, even though I hadn't directly asked, that I was wondering if she'd caught wind of any gossip in this area. "Must be something she thought of herself."

"So it should be around the entire school by, oh, I don't know, tomorrow morning?" I said unconcernedly.

"Yeah, probably. I'd say earlier, even, seeing as it's a holiday."

"Anyway, then she asked if I wanted to join her and a bunch of people for a snowball fight—this isn't one of the strange bits—which I declined, of course." Mary grinned again. "Instead, I read in the common room—again, not strange—and after the snowball fight crew returned, I had a nice chat with Remus, Peter, Black, Potter, and Chloe," I said nonchalantly. "Oh, and we had hot chocolate that Potter and Chloe stole from the kitchens, which is apparently a regular event. And Chloe actually spoke to me. Twice."

Mary was appropriately surprised by this news. "Well, the kitchens thing is old news—where do you think they get all the food for their parties?" I rolled my eyes, wondering if Potter had coached her to say this. "But the Chloe thing . . . well, maybe it's all the Christmas cheer?" she suggested with a smirk.

"If it is, it must be some powerful stuff. Because not once during this unprecedented episode did I feel like cursing Potter into oblivion. In fact, I actually kind of enjoyed hanging out with him and his mates. Of course, that's different than being with him one-on-one, but . . ."

"What exactly are you trying to say, Lily?" Mary asked shrewdly, though I suspected she had a pretty good idea where I was going with all this.

"I'm saying that I might . . . that being friends with Potter _might _actually be possible."

Mary gave me a 'good for you' sort of look.

"And that's a big if, by the way," I warned her.

"But it's a start."

"Yes, it is a start."

**OOOOOOOO**

I had, up until the day of, been fairly apathetic about the New Year's party—I wasn't really the hard core partying type, but I could be persuaded on occasion to join in the celebrations after a Gryffindor Quidditch victory (having missed the match itself, I felt slightly obligated to attend the parties). However, the events that transpired on Friday morning left me one hundred percent ready for a chance to cut loose and dance away my troubles . . . or whatever it is one is supposed to do at a party.

After breakfast, I had a momentary sanity lapse and let Mary, Marlene and Dorcas convince me to join them in a snowball fight with some of the other fifth and sixth year Gryffindor boys—Potter and Black included, of course. I didn't know if I was just more perceptive this year, but there seemed to have been an absurd number of snowball fights since my return to Hogwarts. Maybe people had more steam to let off this year. Or maybe it was hitting some of the older students that they had precious little time left at Hogwarts, and they wanted to ensure they met their snowball fight quota. Or something. I don't know.

Anyway, my roommates insisted that I partake in at least one of them, and I guess I was having a temporary need to try new things—what with my recent resolution about Quidditch—and that, combined with the aforementioned bout of insanity, led to me spending AN HOUR outside in the frigid air. I swear the others must have used the other games for practice, because I got absolutely clobbered. It was actually a little pathetic. To top it all off, my ordeal ended with a massive snowball to the face courtesy of Sirius Black.

"Right," I said, spitting out a mouthful of snow and trying to muster whatever dignity I might still have left. "I think I'm done."

The others all tried to convince me to stay for 'just one more round,' but the way they were all obviously holding back laughter didn't exactly work to convince me to stay.

"I'll walk you back," Potter offered. I gave him an odd look, but was so dead set on getting back in the castle that I didn't want to waste time arguing with him.

"That was rather low of Sirius, sorry," he said as we trudged through the snow.

"It's fine—not your fault," I said truthfully.

"Yeah, well, I still feel bad about it," Potter said, slinging an arm around my shoulders in a friendly way . . . and promptly shoving a concealed handful of snow in my face.

I stood frozen in shock as everyone's suppressed laughter finally burst fourth, unable to be contained any longer in the face of Potter's trick. "You . . ." I started angrily, whipping around to face him.

"Y-you should've s-s-seen your face!" he laughed. Gaining control of himself slightly, he added, "Sorry, Evans, it was just too easy to pass up."

"I will get you back for that," I threatened before turning on my heel—rather harder in snow, mind you—and striding back to the castle.

Dripping, frozen to the bone, and fuming, I was not ready for a confrontation with Chloe, but apparently fate had other ideas.

She cornered me in the Entrance Hall, and I wondered briefly why she hadn't been outside enjoying the fun—_smarter than me for once, I guess_—before she shouted, "What are you playing at?"

My patience as thin as the ice clinging to my hair, I replied shortly, "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Oh, don't act all innocent," Chloe spat back. Literally—I mean, I think spittle actually landed on my cheek. "Just stay away from him, he's mine!"

I nearly laughed at her childish outburst, but my confusion overcame my amusement. "Who—wait, are you talking about Potter?" I snorted. "Honey, believe me when I tell you there's nothing to worry about—I am in no way trying to steal your boyfriend, or whatever impression it is you're operating under."

Chloe continued to glare at me suspiciously. "I don't believe you."

"Right, well, that's your choice, I suppose," I said. "Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to go take such a long shower that there won't be any hot water left for a week."

_And I thought we were starting to get on, _I mused as the blessedly warm water hit me at last. _Well, there's proof that she really was jealous of me this whole time, though I'm not sure what caused the sudden outburst. Maybe I should be worried about Marlene's gossip after all._

After my shower I put on old jeans and a baggy sweater. Because I was starving and didn't really feel like waiting for the others to return, I decided to head to lunch on my own. When I left the common room, however, I found Severus leaning against the opposite wall.

"I was waiting for you," he stated unnecessarily—who else could he possibly want to see from Gryffindor?

"What, come to threaten me again? Or do you want to punch _me_ this time?"

Severus glared at me. "I didn't start that fight, Lily."

"Whatever. At any rate, I can't see what you could possibly have to say to me, so I'll just be—" I tried to pass him, but Sev grabbed my arm.

"Can't you just _listen _to me for two sec—"

"No, I can't, actually. Come on, Sev, I already told you—we've chosen different paths. And, in reality, that divergence started a long time ago, so it's too late to reverse it. Can you honestly say that, given the choice, you would pick me over them? Or maybe the better question is _could_ you? Because even if you wanted to, I don't think it's possible anymore. Is it?"

The question hung in the air like a thick fog. Severus was quiet, and his silence was answer enough for me. Sighing, I started walking again, and this time he didn't stop me.

**OOOOOOOO**

"It's not normal, is it?" I asked Mary later that evening.

"That you're more disappointed than anything that your former best friend may very possibly be a Death Eater? No, that's not really normal, Lil," she agreed. "Anger, fear—those would be more appropriate reactions."

I sighed. "I know. I think my sanity has been . . . missing, a bit, lately. Or maybe the Severus stuff just hasn't completely sunk in yet."

"Well, I guess it doesn't pose an immediate threat," Mary tried to reason. "It's not like they'll do anything while still at school, right?"

I shrugged. I didn't know how the Death Eaters operated. "Anyway, sorry to bring this up now—what with this party tonight and everything. I didn't mean to be a downer."

"It's all right," Mary said. "Just gives us more reason to make the most of tonight, right?"

And for once, I agreed with her completely.

"Now, what are you going to wear?" she said, jumping off of my bed and flinging open my closet.

I followed more slowly. "Honestly, does it matter?"

Mary fixed me with a stern look. "Yes." Turning back to my clothes, she selected a sparkly blue top—she'd made me buy it last year—and held it up to me. "I've always liked this shirt."

I sighed. "Yes, I know. You practically held me up at wandpoint until I bought it. But don't you think it's a little . . . flashy, for this?"

Mary looked at me witheringly. "Lily, it's New Year's. You're supposed to be flashy."

We eventually compromised with a purple tank top with sequins outlining the collar and sleeves—by this point, I was just happy to have reached a decision, as Marlene and Dorcas had come in while we Mary and I were still debating and of course had to add their opinions as well. I helped the two girls get ready while Mary chose her own outfit. This mostly consisted of nodding encouragingly when they asked if they looked all right and assuring them that this shirt didn't make them look fat and that skirt was absolutely flattering.

After I'd been attacked with make-up by the other three, we were finally ready. The four of us descended the stairs to the common room, where streamers hung from every available surface, '1977' flashed from the walls, and music pounded through speakers magicked to float near the ceiling. A banner depicting the countdown to midnight hung above the fireplace; currently, it read 2:48: 57.

Apparently, word had got out about the Marauder's party, as word is wont to do when it concerns them, as there were several people from other Houses mingling with the Gryffindors. Including . . .

"Andrew?" Mary asked in surprised as her boyfriend waved to us from beside a table laden with cups and a large bowl of punch. Marlene and Dorcas immediately spotted some friends from Hufflepuff and left us to join them. "What are you doing here?" Mary continued.

Andrew grinned at her. "I got Potter to give me the password, because who better to spend New Year's with than my beautiful girlfriend?" he said with a wink. "Besides, we're not doing anything in Ravenclaw tonight," he added with a scowl.

"That's because Ravenclaws are a bunch of swots," Potter said, coming up beside us. "What with their obsession with absurd things like studying . . . er, present company excluded, of course," he said, slapping Andrew on the back. "Glad you could join us, mate. Well, thank you all for coming, enjoy the party, and be sure to try the 'punch'"—he put air quotes around the word—"it's excellent."

Grabbing a cupful himself, Potter walked over to where Chloe was standing by the fire, kissing her on the cheek as he reached her. I quickly turned away, not wanting to catch her eye, just in case she felt the need to accost me again. "Potter sure likes playing host, huh?" I commented to Mary and Andrew as they helped themselves to the 'punch' as well. "I mean, he sounded so formal, and didn't even take the time to make a witty comment to me about the snowball fight incident. Which, by the way, if you think of something for me to use to pay him back for that, let me know."

"Will do," Mary promised. I grabbed her cup of punch, took a sip, and passed it back with a grimace. "Too strong for you, Lil?" she asked sweetly.

"Definitely—and don't tease Mary, you know I don't drink."

"Not even on New Year's?" Andrew asked.

"Especially not on New Year's," I said. "I'm not stupid—I've heard the stories over the years of the things that happen at these parties. And I don't care to add my name to the gossip list," I said with dignity. _Especially since it appears to be already on it_, I added silently, thinking once again of Marlene's sudden interest in Potter and me.

"Fair enough," Andrew returned before toasting me with his glass and draining it in three gulps. "Of course, there are other schools of thought," he said with a smirk.

I raised my eyebrows. "Apparently." Turning to Mary, I said, "Have fun with this one."

"Oh, I'm sure I will," she said, wiggling her eyebrows seductively at Andrew.

"Right," I said, leaving them to their . . . couple-y-ness.

Feeling a little awkward without at least something in my hand, I grabbed a butterbeer from the neglected stack near the punch bowl and started around the perimeter of the room. I wasn't exactly looking for anyone specific; I just knew that tonight was not one where I wanted to be the third wheel with Mary and Andrew.

Eventually, I spotted Remus chatting with a sixth year Ravenclaw girl I knew vaguely—I think her name was Carin—and headed in that direction. The girl walked away as I approached, and I joked as I neared him, "Hope I didn't scare her off."

Remus smiled at me. "Hey, Lily. No, Carin"—I was proud of myself for getting her name right—"was just asking me a question about a project Kettleburn said we'd be starting after the holidays." Professor Kettleburn was the Care of Magical Creatures teacher.

I raised my eyebrows at him. "You're talking about homework? And people always told me I was a buzz kill at parties."

Remus just shrugged.

"So?" I said slowly, leaning towards him conspiratorially.

"So . . . what?"

"So, do you fancy her, or what? You could always start up a chat about the weather next, or something else equally exciting," I teased.

Remus nudged me in the ribs. "Oh, sod off, Lily. And . . . well, I'm not really into dating."

I gave him an odd look. "What the hell does that mean? Unless . . . what you're trying to say is that you're not into girls, because that's totally fine, I—"

He glared at me. "No, that's _not _what I'm saying." After a pause, he continued, "It's just, you know . . . with my, er, condition, it makes it hard . . ."

"Oh," I said, the teasing smile sliding abruptly from my face. "Remus, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—I was just taking the mickey out of you, but I wasn't—"

"It's fine, Lily," Remus assured me. "Really."

I was silent for a while, before smiling again and saying, "Well, if you're still in need of a midnight kiss when the auspicious hour tolls . . ."

Remus frowned again. "How many butterbeers have you had?"

"This is my first one," I said defensively. "And it was a _joke_, you know. Honestly, you're the one who needs more to drink."

"Oh good, Evans, you're making sure the butterbeer doesn't feel too left out," Potter said, smirking as he came over to us, Chloe—of course—in tow.

I looked at her warily, but she seemed to be determinedly pretending I didn't exist.

"I'll be right back—need another drink," Remus mumbled quickly.

Potter watched him walk away. "What's his problem?" he wondered aloud, raising his own drink to his lips.

"Er, I might have kind of offered to kiss him at midnight," I admitted, blushing a little.

Potter spit the mouthful he'd just gulped on the floor. "What?" he said hoarsely.

"I was just trying to make a joke," I said quickly. "But I think I weirded him out a little."

"I have to pee," Chloe announced suddenly, and I was pretty sure she just wanted to get away from me.

Potter glanced at her as she left, but soon turned back to me. "So, Evans, I didn't know you were into wolves," he said with a wink.

I glared at him. "I'm not—urgh, this is why I don't go to parties."

"Because you make a fool of yourself and frighten away all the blokes? And you don't even have to be drunk to do it—yeah, that's pretty impressive," Potter said, still smirking in that annoying way of his.

_This would be the perfect time to find something to get him back for th—oh! That'll work. _Someone had just passed me carrying a plate with a giant piece of cake on it, and an idea struck me. "I don't know about you," I said, ignoring Potter's latest comment, "but I'm hungry, and that cake looks amazing. Do you want me to get you a piece while I'm over there?"  
Potter frowned slightly, and I could tell he was suspicious of my sudden charity. Hopefully not suspicious enough . . . "Uh, sure."

"Great!" I said before he could second-guess himself. "I'll be right back."

Checking to make sure Remus was no longer by the drink table—he wasn't—I hurried up to the table next to it and grabbed two pieces of cake.  
Rejoining Potter, I said, "Here you go!" And before he could see what I was doing, I shoved the cake in his face. "It's not as cold as snow, but it's definitely messier, so I'd say we're even, wouldn't you?" I grinned evilly at Potter, who was attempting to wipe the cake and frosting from his face.

"That was good, Evans, I have to admit. Didn't see it coming at all." He licked his fingers clean, but I was pleased to see he still had cake in his hair. I sure wasn't going to tell him that, though.

"Thank you," I said smugly. "So, where's the rest of your entourage?"

"Sirius and Peter? Well, Sirius is . . . there," he said, pointing to where the Marauder in question was dancing with three girls. "And yes, he _is _already drunk, good of you to ask. Peter . . . is already passed out on the couch." Potter indicated the spot by the fire where the fourth Marauder was, indeed, sprawled out as though he'd simply collapsed there. "Lightweight," Potter explained in response to my questioning look.  
I glanced at my watch. "It's only ten o'clock."

"Is it already? Well, that's pretty good for him—last year he'd hit that point by nine thirty."

I shook my head. "And you?"

"What about me?"

"Are you drunk?"

But before Potter could answer, Chloe returned. "This is my fav—why do you have cake in your hair?" I sighed in disappointment as she picked it out. "Anyway, this is my favorite song! Come and dance with me," she commanded.

With a parting salute to me, Potter let Chloe drag him into the middle of the room, where the furniture had been cleared for a make-shift dance floor. I stayed where he left me and just observed the scene around me for a while. After a couple minutes, I spotted Mary and Andrew, dancing in a way that I would feel uncomfortable describing. Quickly averting my eyes from them, my gaze passed over the far corner of the common room just in time to see a girl throw up all over another girl's shoes. Rolling my eyes, I continued my sweep of the room until my view was suddenly blocked by Sirius's face.

"Heeeey, Lily," he said, grinning at me. His nose was literally inches from mine, and I could smell the booze on his breath. I tried to step back, but as there was a wall right behind me, this wasn't so effective. Sidestepping him instead, I increased the distance between us to a comfortable level. "Dance with me?"

_Merlin, he must be drunk, _I thought, unsure whether to laugh or be horrified. "Er, no thanks," I said.

Sirius shrugged, apparently not bothered by my refusal. "Yeah, you're pro'ly right," he slurred. "Pra—Prongs'd def'nitely kill me."

Before I could figure out how that possibly made sense, a shout rang out from the middle of the room. "What the hell is this?"

I turned to see Chloe standing, one hand on her hip, the other brandishing a stack of papers in Potter's face, a look of absolute fury on her face.

"I can explain that," Potter said quickly.

"Well, start talking," Chloe snapped, crossing her arms defensively across her chest.

"Let's—can we not do this here?" Potter hissed. People around them were starting to go quiet, staring at them.

Without waiting for her to answer, Potter grabbed Chloe's wrist and marched her out of the common room. As soon as they left, the noise level resumed, though I was sure many people were gossiping about what had just occurred.

"So, heard ya tried t'kiss Moony," Sirius continued, as though nothing had happened.

I whipped around to glare at him. "I did not try to—God, it was a joke! Why can no one get that?"

"Well, if ya wan' an an'mal tamer'n a werewolf, I'll kiss you at midnight."

I stared at him. "I really don't know what that first part meant, but you're joking, right?"

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Obv'usly, Evans." And with that, he walked—rather unsteadily—over to rejoin the girls he'd been dancing with earlier. _This night is so strange_, I reflected, almost wishing I'd gone to more New Year's parties—they sure were entertaining.

Just then Mary came up to me. "So what the hell happened with Chloe and Potter?"

"No idea," I replied, though I was starting to have a nagging suspicion about the papers Chloe had shoved under Potter's nose. I hoped for my conscience's sake that I was wrong.

But once again, fate was not on my side. Chloe suddenly stomped back into the common room, strode straight up to me, and slapped me hard across the face.

**

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A/N: Okay, I really did mean to finish up the party in this chapter….but it looks like it's going to spill over into the next one too!**


	13. Give In

**A/N: Happy Halloween everyone! Anyone have an amazing/creative/HP-related (which is by default both of those other things) costume they'll be busting out tonight? I already went to a couple of parties yesterday (as Catwoman—the theme was superheros/supervillains—so I'm just being lame tonight and staying in).**

**A thousand thanks to last week's reviewers: SeriouslySiriusBlack, A La DarkAngel, miskadatoad, BrokenFaerie16, existence555, ZoneSystems, SucksRoyalHippogriff (love the name, btw—Goyle rules!), iKKxLee52, marinewife08, Cassie Weasley, LilyxJames, Taylorcutie, mee, lasting illusion, MaryandMerlin, and VaneBEAR!**

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Chapter 12: Give In**

I stumbled backward, my cheek stinging, as Chloe growled, "Nothing to worry about my ass!"

As she turned away again towards the girls' dormitories, I pulled out my wand angrily.

"Lily, what are you doing?" Mary demanded, pulling my arm down before I could aim a hex at Chloe's retreating back.

"The bitch just slapped me!" I retorted indignantly, trying to raise my arm again.

But Mary pinned it firmly against my side. Her strength surprised me sometimes. "You know she's not worth it, Lil," she reprimanded me.

I sighed. "Fine. You're right—I don't want to stoop to her level." I started for the portrait hole.

"Where are you going?" Mary asked.

"To find Potter," I said, already cursing my guilty conscience.

"Why?"

"Because I think they just broke up because of me." And without explaining further, I left the common room.

I didn't have far to look—my quarry was leaning against the wall a few feet from the portrait hole, hands in his pockets and eyes trained on the floor. He looked up as I approached, a what-the-hell-are-you-doing-here look in his eyes.

"Um, hey," I started lamely. Potter continued to stare at me, his head now tipped slightly to the side questioningly. "So, you two break up?"  
"Yep," Potter said, lifting one shoulder as though to show he could care less.

I raised an eyebrow. "I can see you're pretty cut up about it."

Potter shrugged with both shoulders this time. "Sorry, but why are you here?"

_That's a valid question. Yes, Lily, why are you here? Oh, wait, that's me—I have to answer that. _"Well, you know . . ." I trailed off hopefully.

"No, I really don't," Potter replied, starting to look a little amused.

_Well at least he's not going to slap me too, _I thought ruefully. "I . . . er . . . all that stuff Chloe had in her hands, those were my letters right?" I asked suddenly, realizing I'd never actually clarified this fact.

Potter nodded. "I still don't see where this is going . . ."

"So, er, I guess I kind of felt like all this was my fault, so I wanted to apol—"

"What?" Potter said, looking at me like I was crazy. "Are you crazy? How can you possibly twist any of this so that it's your fault? Because trust me, Evans, there's no way it is. Chloe's the one who apparently can't handle that I can, in fact, be just friends with a girl—and _I know_, we're not friends, but—"

"Well, you didn't write to her last week, did you?" I asked, not sure why I was trying to defend Chloe's side.

"She was here, so, no," Potter said.

"Oh, right."

He sighed. "Anyway, what with this and all the stuff with Sirius before . . . honestly, I probably shouldn't have even started dating her in the first place."

Now he sounded more appropriately dejected for someone who'd just broken up with his girlfriend. Even if she was the shallow-bitch-girlfriend-from-hell, to borrow some of Sirius's phrasing. "Come on, I bet most people could say that about any relationship they've been in that's ended, but that would be awfully silly, wouldn't it?"

Potter gave me a considering look. "I guess," he said finally. "But I still don't understand how she got the idea in her head that . . . er . . ." he gestured between us awkwardly.

"That there was something going on between us?" I asked frankly. Potter looked surprised at how easily I'd offered up this completion of his sentence. I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, apparently there's something like that going around—at least, Marlene asked me about it almost the second after I got back—"

Potter's eyes widened suddenly. "Marlene!"

"Er, yeah, that's what I said—"

"No, I mean, she's the one who—did you get that note—"

"The one in my bed?"

"Er, I guess," Potter said, his cheeks going slightly pink. "I didn't really tell her where to put it . . ."

"So that's how you got it up there? You gave it to Marlene? Well, that's more comforting than thinking you could get into the girls' dormitories."

Potter smirked. "Doesn't mean I can't."

I glared at him.

"Anyway, I guess she jumped to conclusions a bit."

"No, she was just being Marlene. Seriously, you could have given me a blood sucker as a prank and she'd somehow decide it meant you wanted to marry me."

Potter grinned. "Right, well, sorry about that."

I shrugged. "Really, I could care less what she thinks—and to be honest, I think it ultimately worked out worse for you."

He wrinkled his nose. "I suppose." Then the grin sprang back onto his face. "So, you truly don't care that there are rumors floating about that I'm madly in love with you?"

"Well, first, I don't think it's quite that drastic. And besides, I think it'll fade away quickly after whatever comes out of tonight, don't you?"

"Yeah, you're probably right."

"Rumors aside, I have to say that you're taking all of this much better than Chloe did."

Potter raised an eyebrow. "How so?"

"Well, the minute she came back, she walked straight over and slapped me."

Potter pressed his lips together and struggled for several seconds not to laugh. Needless to say, he wasn't successful.

I shoved him lightly. "Thanks for the sympathy," I grumbled.

"Sorry," he said, still laughing. Attempting to straighten his face, he added, "No, really, I am—I mean, she didn't even hit _me_."

"Well, maybe if I'd snogged her face off for a few months it would've changed the outcome," I said. If it had been anyone but Potter, I never would have said something so insensitive, but I had a feeling he would take it in stride, as he did everything else.

Proving my point, Potter laughed again. Then he winced a little and said, "I probably shouldn't be laughing at that, huh?"

"As it was kind of a veiled insult, no, probably not," I said breezily.

We were quiet for a minute. "I still can't believe she slapped you," Potter said after a while, almost to himself.

I raised my eyes to the ceiling. "Right. Listen, can I ask you something?"  
"Shoot."

"So, I've been thinking—"

"You? Thinking? Never," Potter said sarcastically.

I crossed my arms. "Can I finish? Anyway, what I've decided is that . . . I think . . . I could try being friends with you. If you want." I chanced a look at him out of the corner of my eye, and he was giving me that considering look again.

"You're not just saying that because you feel guilty about Chloe, are you?"

I frowned at him. "No."

"I mean, you're actually serious, right?"

"Yes of course I'm—look, do you want me to tell you something I was only going to tell Mary, and maybe not even her, to prove it?"

"How could I say no to that?"

I was already regretting this. "Sirius offered to kiss me at midnight."

Potter just stared at me.

"I mean, it was a joke—at least, I think and hope it was—and, come to think of it, he probably would have just told you himself, so I don't know how much of a point I'm making telling you—"

"Hold on, you lost me at 'Sirius offered to kiss me.' I'm going to need a minute to process that. No, change that, more like the rest of the night. Or month. Possibly even year. In fact, I might _never_—"

"Okay," I interrupted loudly. "I get it. You can stop making fun of me now."

"I'm not, actually—no, Evans, you're the one I'm least likely to mock in this situation." He paused. "Merlin, Padfoot must be drunker than I thought."

I punched his arm. "Thanks a lot."

Potter grinned at me. "Well, we should go wake up Wormy, see if he'll snog you, then you'll have a full set."

I rolled my eyes. "Okay, first, I didn't actually, nor am I intending to, kiss Remus _or_ Sirius, and second, you've left yourself out of the equation." _What? Why did I say that? That makes it sound like I _want _to kiss him!_

To my relief, however, Potter didn't miss a beat in replying, "Oh, well, I already knew you'd rather tie a large rock to your foot and jump into the ocean than kiss me, so I just automatically eliminated myself."

"You know me so well," I said jokingly.

"See, I told you we could be friends."

"Yeah, we'll see."

"What do you mean 'we'll see'? You were the one who suggested it in the first place."

"Well, you haven't annoyed me—much—this entire time we've been talking, so that's a promising start. Anyway, I suppose we should get back?" I jerked my thumb at the portrait hole behind me.

"Yes, who knows how many break-ups and midnight kiss proposals we've missed standing out here," Potter said as we started for the common room.

I glared over my shoulder at him but didn't reply. "Mistletoe Berries," I said to the Fat Lady, who swung open to admit us. Before I could step into the room, however, Potter grabbed my arm.

"Is Chloe still in there?" he asked.

"I don't think so—I think she went up to the dormitories."

"Well, just check, will you?"

"Coward," I muttered as I scanned the room. "I'm the one she slapped."

"Right, and I have a feeling mine's coming, but I'd rather avoid it as long as possible."

Not spotting her, I turned back to Potter. "You're in the clear."

"Good. Thanks, Evans."

"What are friends for?" I asked sarcastically as we rejoined the party.

"Prongs! Where've you _been_?" Sirius demanded, stumbling to a stop in front of us. "I've been lookin' all _over _for ya!"

Potter rolled his eyes. "I'm sure you have," he said.

"I thought you were going to miss it!" a new voice shouted as Mary came up beside me, a little tipsy herself. Andrew, far drunker by the looks of it, followed close behind.

"Miss what?" I asked.

Mary rolled her eyes and thrust a finger at the space above the fireplace. Following her finger, I saw the countdown banner, which now read 00:00:30. "Oh, right—midnight."

"It's on'y the _point_ of the—of the . . . thing," Andrew said.

"Party?" I offered, trying not to laugh.

"Tha's the one!" he replied, grinning at me.

Just then, the traditional ten second countdown started.

"Ten! Nine!"

"Eight!" I yelled, joining in. "Seven! Six!" I looked at Potter, who grinned back at me.

"Five! Four! Three! Two! One! Happy New Year!" The cry echoed throughout the common room as what must have been a thousand pounds of confetti rained down on us.

Andrew dipped Mary back—rather unsteadily—for a kiss, and I was impressed that they didn't fall over.

"Here's your chance, Evans," Potter said in a low voice, looking significantly at Sirius and Remus, who had appeared without my noticing. The two were attempting to high-five, without much success. Apparently, Remus had had more to drink in my absence.

I was about to reply when I was suddenly ambushed by Mary and Andrew, who swooped down to kiss me on the cheek, one on each side. "Happy New Year!" they shouted in unison.

Laughing, I returned the sentiment. I'd barely recovered from their double attack when Remus and Sirius repeated the motion. This time, it was Potter who burst out laughing, while I'm fairly sure I looked like I'd just been doused with ice water.

"Guess Moony wasn't _too_ weirded out," Potter said. "Happy New Year, Evans."

Still slightly bewildered, I replied, "Happy New Year."

**OOOOOOOO**

I woke early the next morning—at least, I assumed it was early compared to most of the Gryffindors, especially those who'd been heavily intoxicated the night before. Dressing in comfortable clothes, I descended the stairs to the common room. _Okay, scratch that, _I thought upon finding it deserted, _I guess it's early compared to the general population._

Absolutely no clean-up had occurred between the time I'd gone to bed last night—shortly after midnight—and the time the party ended—probably around four in the morning, judging by past parties. Hundreds of cups and empty butterbeer bottles cluttered the floor and tables, the countdown banner was still feebly flashing 'Happy New Year', and a thin layer of colorful confetti still covered the entire room. Brushing some of the paper off a couch by the fireplace, I dropped onto it with a sigh. A few minutes later, my obsessive compulsive tendencies got the better of me, and I stood again to start cleaning. At first, I tried Summoning the confetti, hoping to ease the clean-up process, but after I was blasted in the face by a deluge of the stuff, I abruptly changed tactics. _By hand it is, then_.

Raised in a Muggle household, I didn't dread manual cleaning as much as some of my fellow students would. As I was crawling under a table to retrieve a few errant cups, a voice called out, "Somehow, I knew I'd find you here."

My head snapped up in surprise, connecting sharply with the table above it. Swearing in pain, I backed more carefully from under the table and straightened up. Potter was standing across the room near the base of the boys' dormitory stairs. "And what's that supposed to mean?" I asked, rubbing the sore spot on the back of my head.

He shrugged. "I knew that as soon as you woke up, you wouldn't be able to resist cleaning this mess up. And I figured that, since I was awake, and since it was my party, I'd come down and help you. Oh, and since we're friends now and everything," he added with a smirk.

I just stared at him for a moment. "So, let me get this straight: James Potter is taking responsibility for something?" I finally asked with mock surprise.

Potter grinned. "Well, first time for everything, isn't there Evans?"

I gave a half shrug. "Just to warn you, we'll have to do this all by hand—I tried Summoning the confetti earlier with . . . not-so-favorable results."

"Sorry I missed that." He walked over to me and plucked a piece of confetti out of my hair. "Though I think I can picture the general idea of it."

I rolled my eyes. "Yes, well, if you want to start the lovely task of gathering all that up, I can finish the cups. And there's a questionable stain over in that corner someone will have to deal with."

To my further shock, Potter just nodded and started picking up confetti without so much as a complaint or teasing remark. We worked quietly for a few minutes, and then I said, "I didn't know you were a morning person."

"I'm not. At least, not generally. And especially not after a party. You must be rubbing off on me already."

"Lucky you," I said dryly.

Potter looked up at me. "Was that supposed to be a jab at me, or are you saying you'd rather I be like me than like you?"

I frowned, trying to sort out that somewhat confusing sentence. "Er, the first one? I guess."

Potter grinned. "Good. Because if it was the second, that'd be far too much change in one night for me."

I smiled back at him, surprised at how easily we were getting along. _How has simply offering to be friends with him affected our interactions so drastically already?_ I puzzled over this as we continued to straighten up the common room. We finished quicker than I'd expected and sat down opposite each other near the fire when we were done. I started to thank Potter for his help, but before I could say a word, he chucked a handful of confetti at me.

Laughing he said, "Honestly, you really do make it too easy, Evans."

I glared at him, picking pieces of confetti off my shirt for the second time that morning. "Glad I can amuse you."

Just then, footsteps sounded on the boys' stairs, and Potter and I turned to see Sirius enter the room. He slumped down beside Potter with a sigh, leaning his head back against the couch and shutting his eyes.

Potter shot me an amused look. "You're up early," he added to Sirius.

"Well, that'll happen when someone steals the bathroom and you're forced to throw up in your own trunk," he replied derisively.

Potter winced in sympathy. I tried not to laugh.

"I would've made it to the bathroom too, if bloody Wormtail hadn't been in there already," he continued, though neither Potter nor I had asked for an explanation. "And as he was . . . purging as well, that only made it worse, so . . ." he trailed off in a you-know-the-rest sort of way.

"You cleaned it up though, right?" I asked.

Sirius finally opened his eyes to shoot me a withering look. "No, I left it there to commemorate the new year," he said sarcastically.

I held up my hands. "Okay, I was just checking."

"Yeah, after last night, I'd expect you to be nicer to Evans, Padfoot," Potter added in a falsely admonishing tone.

I reddened slightly, but Sirius just rolled his eyes. "I was drunk, Prongs, you know what I get like. No offense, Lily."

"None taken."

"Yeah, Evans is lucky you at least kept your pants on this time," Potter said seriously.

I raised my eyebrows as Sirius said quickly, "Okay, we're not getting into that right now. Or ever, preferably."

Potter opened his mouth to reply, but Sirius distracted him by adding, "Sorry about the letters, by the way."

"What?" Potter demanded, frowning, and I sat up straight, suddenly wary.

"Yeah, I found them in your trunk when I was getting the decorations for last night, and I brought them down to ask you about it"—here he raised an eyebrow slightly at me—"and sort of left them on a table. So that's why Chloe, er, you know . . ."

Potter was quiet for a minute, while I braced myself for an outburst. But, to my surprise, he just sighed and said, "You told me that now on purpose, didn't you? Because you know I can't hate you when you look so pathetic."

Sirius glared at his best mate, but didn't appear to have the energy to respond. And I was saved the embarrassing questions I anticipated from him about the letters when Remus and Peter entered the common room. "Moony, Wormtail," Potter greeted them with a grin. "And how are you this fine morning?"

"I think I just threw up everything I've ever eaten," Wormtail moaned, sliding down in his chair and closing his eyes.

"And I think I _need _to throw up everything I've ever eaten, because I feel awful," Remus added.

"Well, time for breakfast, then," Potter said brightly, standing. The others merely looked at him in horrified astonishment.

"Absolutely not," Sirius said firmly.

"I'm never eating again," Peter vowed.

"And I'd appreciate it if everyone just stopped talking about food," Remus said, his skin now slightly green-tinged.

Potter sighed. "Fine. Evans?" he added to me.

I shrugged. "Who knows when Mary is going to be up, so, sure."

"We'll bring you back some hangover supplies," Potter assured his friends as we started for the portrait hole.

As we left the common room, I heard Peter say in confusion, "Are they friends now, or something?"

I glanced at Potter to see if he'd heard his friend's comment as well, but his face betrayed nothing.

"So, is it always like this?" I started conversationally as we headed for the Great Hall. "They all get absurdly drunk and then you take care of them the next day? Because I would have thought that Remus—"

"Yep, he's usually the sober one of the bunch," Potter affirmed. "Though you'd be surprised how much he can let loose—you know, for him, that is." He smirked. "I guess there were just too many distractions last night for me to focus on the art of getting plastered."

I raised an eyebrow. "There's an art to it?"

"Oh yes," Potter said seriously. Then he smiled crookedly. "I'll teach it to you sometime, if you want."

"As fun as that sounds, I think I'll pass. Though I would be interested to hear the story of Sirius's missing pants." We crossed the Entrance Hall and entered the relatively empty Great Hall.

Potter grinned. "Yeah, that's a good one. It was during—shit!" Potter suddenly turned around, grabbing my arm and pulling me along with him.

"What are you—" I began, trying to pull away.

"Shh! Don't look back, just walk," Potter insisted.

He dragged me back across the Entrance Hall, through a door beside the marble staircase, and partway down the corridor beyond before finally coming to a stop. "Sorry," he said with a sigh, "but Chloe was in there."

I stared at him for a moment. "Merlin, you _are _a coward!" I said finally. "I never knew that James Potter was so afraid to—"

"So you'd be okay walking in there and eating breakfast with me? _Just _me?"

I considered this, finally wrinkling my nose. "No, I guess not," I said grudgingly. "So, what do you propose we do? Starve?"

Potter rolled his eyes. "Hardly, Evans," he said condescendingly. "I didn't bring you in here for nothing, you know." And with that cryptic non-explanation, he started walking again.

I hurried to catch up. "Where are we going?"

"Kitchens," Potter said simply. "Generally helpful when one is in search of food, I've found," he added mildly, but I heard the smirk in his voice that indicated he was mocking me.

"Oh, shove it, Potter," I said.

"I thought we were going to try and be friends."

"I'm still at perfect liberty to tell you when you're being an idiot."

"I wasn't the one being an idiot," Potter protested. "_You_ were the one who didn't seem to know that food came from the kitchens."

Sighing exasperatedly, I said, "Obviously I knew that—all I asked was where we were going. And since I haven't spent every second of my free time illegally wandering the school, you can hardly expect me to know where the kitchens are."

"It's not illegal to wander the school. And that is exactly your problem, Evans."

"That I don't know where the kitchens are? I would hardly call that a 'problem'—"

"I'm starting to see why we've never been friends before," Potter interrupted with a smirk, coming to a stop in the corridor.

"So am I," I muttered, stopping as well, but only because Potter had.

"Well, it's only been one day—you can still back out of your resolution without too much trouble."

"My what?"

Potter leaned casually against the wall beside him. "Your resolution. As in, New Year's resolution."

I looked sharply at him and found that, surprise of surprises, he was grinning. I rolled my eyes. "It's not a New Year's resolution," I said.

"Okay, then, what is it? You actually _want _to try to be friends with me? I somehow find that awfully hard to believe, Evans."

I glared at him. He'd backed me into a corner without my realizing it. Either I consented that it was a New Year's resolution after all—and I hated backing down in an argument with Potter—or I admitted that I wanted to be friends with him of my own volition. And even though I hated the second option infinitely more, I knew it was the truth. At least, I thought it was. I was still a bit confused on that part, and hadn't completely ruled out the possibility that I had, in fact, gone insane. Or that this was an absurdly long and very strange dream.

"You didn't seem to have a problem believing it last night," I said, not quite answering his question.

Unfortunately, he noticed. "Stop being evasive, Evans."

"Fine. I want to be friends with you," I said, albeit grudgingly.

Potter's grin widened. "Don't sound so sincere," he said sardonically.

I pushed my hair out of my eyes and sighed impatiently again. "So, where are these lovely kitchens of yours?" I asked, trying to change the subject.

"Here," Potter said. "But I didn't want to go in until we'd finished our stimulating conversation." Smirking again, he pushed off from the wall with his shoulder and walked to a large painting that hung opposite. "You want to do the honors?"

"The honors of what?" I asked, looking skeptically at the still life of a bowl of fruit before me.

"You just tickle the pear."

I raised an eyebrow. "I _what_, sorry?" Narrowing my eyes, I added, "You're putting me on—trying to make me look ridiculous."

Potter sighed. "Now, Evans, why would I do that when it's only me here? I already _know _you can look ridiculous."

Before I could make an angry reply, Potter reached up and tickled the green pear in the painting himself, and it swung open on the Hogwarts kitchens.

The room was incredibly large, much larger than I'd expected. It was nearly the size of the Great Hall. And when I spotted the four long tables that ran the length of it, I realized that it must be _exactly _the size of the Great Hall. Surrounding the tables were several stoves, hundreds of cupboards and cabinets, and extensive counter space. Everything was done in miniature, however, and the reason soon became abundantly clear.

The minute the portrait had opened, several short creatures had come scurrying up to us. They had disproportionately large heads, huge round eyes, and pointy ears, and all were beaming and bowing at us. _House elves,_ I realized. For though I'd only seen pictures of them in our textbooks, I knew that was what they must be.

"Mr. Potter, sir," one squeaked, sounding genuinely delighted to see him. _Probably because he doesn't have to be around him as much as I do,_ I thought. I know, I was supposed to be trying to be friends with Potter, but, honestly, I was pretty sure he was making it deliberately difficult.

"What is you needing this time, sir?"

"Well, New Year's party last night, so my friends upstairs—you know, Remus, Peter, and Sirius—are in need of some, er, hangover remedies." The elves seemed unfazed by this request, and I wondered if it was because they were too polite to protest such debauchery, or because it was so regular an occurrence with Potter and his friends that it didn't surprise them any more. I felt compelled to lean towards the latter.

"And I'd like some eggs, sausage, toast, and if you have any of those amazing chocolate scones from yesterday left, I'll take one of those as well."

Two elves hurried off to carry out James's order, while the remaining three turned to me.

"And miss is wanting . . ."

"Oh, right, sorry Evans," Potter said. "This is Lily Evans—"

"Pleased to meet you miss," the three elves chorused. I smiled back at them.

"And she'd like—well, what would you like, Evans?"

"Hmm, let's see. I'd like for McGonagall to stop giving us homework assignments that assume we have no other classes, and I'd like the snow to melt by the first of March—as it should—and I'd like—"

"I don't think they understand sarcasm, Evans, so just tell them what you want for breakfast," Potter said, though he sounded amused.

"Oh, that was for your benefit."

"How thoughtful of you. And I agree with the first point, though good luck with the second."

"Thank you." I turned to the house elves, who were still waiting expectantly, not looking at all confused by Potter's and my exchange. "Sorry—I'll just take some toast, if it's not too much trouble."

The house elves bowed again and trotted away.

Potter raised a derisive eyebrow. "Toast? That's it? You have the whole kitchen at your fingertips, and you want _toast_?"

"I feel bad making them do extra work," I said defensively. "Besides, I happen to like toast. And I'll probably go to breakfast with Mary later anyway."

Potter and I received our respective requests in record time, and after assuring the house elves three times that, no, we really _didn't _need anything else, we left the kitchens, several farewells to 'Mr. Potter, sir' following us out.

"I've tried to get them to just call me 'James', but . . . anyway, impressed?"

"By what?"

"My detective skills. In finding the kitchens."

"Oh, incredibly impressed," I said sarcastically. "I'm sure it's nothing to what Chloe thought when you showed her, though," I added, realizing as the words left my mouth that it probably wasn't the most sensitive thing to say, considering they'd broken up only yesterday. But then, my sensitivity always seemed to be mysteriously absent whenever I was with Potter.

Predictably, he didn't seem to notice it, however. "Oh, I never showed her the kitchens," he said easily.

I frowned. "Yes you did—when you two went to get hot chocolate for us a few days ago—"

"I made her wait in the Entrance Hall."

My frown deepened. "Why?"

"The kitchens are a valuable Marauder's secret, Evans," Potter said, acting scandalized that I even needed to ask such a question. "And we don't tell our secrets to just anyone, you know."

_Then why even bring Chloe with you?_ But Potter's actions had brought a more pressing concern to mind. "Yet you told me . . . you're not trying to bribe me into being friends with you, are you?"

Potter gave me an odd look. "Of course not. And anyway, I thought you _wanted _to be friends with me, remember?" He smirked triumphantly.

I glared at him again as we emerged in the Entrance Hall.

"Besides, I knew it'd be more trouble than it's worth to try and make you wait here. Not to mention I'd have brought you an actual breakfast, and that clearly wouldn't have done at all."

I shoved him lightly. "You're impossible," I said, though I was grinning in spite of myself.

**

* * *

A/N: Yay, title reference! Haha. Anyway, the first hurdle has been . . . er . . . hurdled—they're friends! (though a bit reluctantly on Lily's part). How long they'll be able to get along, however….well, it's James and Lily, so—enough said.**


	14. Work In Progress

**A/N: An extra-special thank you with cherries on top to last week's reviewers: Cassie Weasley, Silver Scorpion, A La DarkAngel, EchoNightFall22, totally anonymous reviewer who didn't leave any sort of name—you know who you are, I guess!, emandem, Mrs. Belikov814, marinewife08, theycallherkaush, Evisawesome, BrokenFaerie16, and MaryandMerlin!**

**Why extra-special, you ask? Well, this week I happened to receive this little gem from 'Rose':****"Are you really 22 years old to write like this? Lily's thougts, words and actions are immature. The characters have no depth. The writing style seems childish and is so "american". Are american people that ignorant of other countries?"**

**And because it was left anonymously, I've decided to post my reply here for your enjoyment:**

**Rose—First, I would like to congratulate you on making an anonymous review. Very brave. Unfortunately, it also means that I am unable to reply to you in a private manner. Hence, I'm posting my reply here.**

**Though normally I welcome**_** constructive**_** criticism, yours was neither constructive nor critical. It was rather vague and actually quite offensive. If you had pointed out something wrong with my story/writing/how I portray my characters**_** using specific examples**_**, I would have been happy to try and fix it (as I've done for others who have reviewed with comments or suggestions for improvement). However, merely telling me that you find Lily "immature" isn't that helpful, particularly considering that she is, in fact, a teenager. And sometimes teenagers are immature. I know—a shocking revelation.**

**As far as my writing style being "American" . . . I'm not entirely sure what you're trying to imply by this. That Americans can't write? Tell that to Mark Twain or Ernest Hemingway. Regardless, I might have been able to look past this comment if you had not gone on to suggest that my writing implies that I am ignorant of other countries. I am completely lost as to how my writing style relates to cultural sensitivity. Perhaps J.K. Rowling is also ignorant of other countries because she writes in a British style? (alas, I cannot claim credit for this argument, as it was given to me by one of my friends after I showed her your review, but I agree with it nonetheless).**

**I'm sure you won't actually read this, but I felt the need to reply anyway. Then again, who knows? You did wait until**_** chapter 12**_** to leave the above review….**

...

**Well, that was fun! Now, on to Chapter 13!**

**

* * *

Chapter 13: Work in Progress**

When classes resumed, I fell back into more or less my usual rhythm with Potter. Essentially, nothing had changed. For one thing, we still called each other 'Potter' and 'Evans.' I guess it had become something of a habit over the years, one that neither of us gave a second thought to breaking. And really, we barely interacted outside of class, just as we always had. So despite my 'New Year's resolution,' as Potter had endearingly termed it, I wasn't quite sure if we _were_ actuallyfriends. It wasn't like any friendships I'd ever had, anyway. But then, I'd never tried to become friends with someone I'd formerly hated with a fiery passion, so perhaps this was normal. Or perhaps the still sane part of me was protesting the change by showing me all the ways Potter and I appeared _not _to be friends.

Either way, Potter did offer to sit with Mary and I at Andrew's Quidditch match on the first Saturday of term, which I suppose was a friendly thing to do. Sirius and Peter came as well—Remus was . . . incapacitated; it was a full moon again.

"Okay, so, we're rooting for Ravenclaw," Mary said as we sat down, apparently feeling that, with my inexperience surrounding Quidditch, I need to be talked through every aspect.

I gave my friend a withering glare. "Mary, honestly, I'm not that thick—who would cheer for Slytherin, anyway?"

"Of course, sorry," she replied, though a little distractedly, as she was intent upon the Quidditch changing rooms, waiting for the teams to appear. It was fairly windy up in the magically raised stands, and I pulled my long red hair into a hasty ponytail and stuffed it under my hat to keep it out of my face.

"Though, ironically," Potter commented, "if Slytherin were to win, that would actually put us in better standing for the Cup."

"But, as Lily rightly put it, there's no way we'd be caught cheering for them, even so," Sirius added, looking at Potter shrewdly.

"Right, well, I'm just letting her know—fun fact sort of a thing," Potter defended.

"Thanks, Potter," I said.

"Just looking out for you, Evans, as always," he replied.

And as the game began, I realized just how much Potter, Sirius, and even Peter knew about Quidditch. All of them shouted suggestions to the players—even though there was no way any of them would hear us above the roaring of the crowd—and barraged the ref, Archie Harrod, whenever he made what was in their minds a bad call.

I didn't even need to listen to the commentary, as Potter kept up a far more detailed one beside me. I guess he felt obligated to make sure I understood what was going on, and while in the past I might have been offended at his assumption of my ignorance (though he would have been right), now I found it sort of sweet, actually. Besides, he knew far more than I could have hoped to figure out on my own.

"So, since Slytherin's Beaters have cleared the way, Hawley's going to try and score," he explained, pointing to their lead Chaser, currently streaking unimpeded towards the Ravenclaw goal. "And Mackey's—aw, come on!" Hawley had scored, punching his fist into the air in triumph.

"Even I could tell he was going for the left hoop," Peter said in frustration.

"Yeah, Mackey's really gotta get it together," Sirius agreed.

"Excuse me, but I don't appreciate you all slagging on my boyfriend," Mary said indignantly from my left. I reached behind Potter to give Sirius a shove.

"That was from Mary," I explained when he shot me an angry look.

"Thank you, Lily," Mary said smugly.

"Well, he _isn't _playing well," Sirius muttered defensively, though, luckily for him, Mary didn't hear this time.

**OOOOOOOO**

The game had lasted an hour so far, and I was still thoroughly enjoying myself, to my great surprise. Ravenclaw had just taken a time out, and Sirius turned to me with a cheeky grin.

"So, Lily, how do you feel now that you're longer a Quidditch virgin?"

I rolled my eyes at his phrasing. "Like a natural woman," I said sardonically, causing both Potter and Sirius to laugh.

"Well, if you think this is orgasmic," Sirius continued, "you'll have to come see us at our match in February."

"If it'll make you stop with the analogies between Quidditch and sex—which is frankly a little disturbing—then, sure." I frowned, suddenly realizing what he'd said. "Wait, 'us'? Is that a collective 'us', as in 'Gryffindor', or are you on the team?"

Sirius looked as though I'd just insulted every member of his family. Okay, so, considering he hated nearly his entire family, that was a bad metaphor, but you get the idea.

"You're joking, right, Evans?" This issued not from Sirius, but from Potter, who was also looking at me incredulously.

"Er, no," I said slowly, hoping they wouldn't throw me from the stands for admitting what was apparently an unacceptable lack of knowledge.

Sirius clutched his heart dramatically. "I—I don't even know how to go on—"

"Oh calm down, Sirius," Mary said, frowning at him. "Lily hasn't ever been to a game—how could you expect her to know you play?"

"That is hardly the point, Macdonald," Sirius said. "I—"

But what exactly the point was, I never found out, because at that moment, play resumed, and everyone's attention was immediately captivated once more. Though Peter did have time to add quietly to me, "He plays Beater."

"Thank you, Peter," I said, glancing sideways at Potter, who was smirking.

A few minutes later, he was explaining another play to me. "Okay, so, see how the Ravenclaw Chasers are flying in sort of a 'V' shape?" I nodded. "Well, they're making it look like the one at the front is going to score but . . . see, right there, he made a reverse pass to give the Quaffle to the Chaser behind him on the left, and now she's—" Cheers drowned out Potter's next words as the Chaser in question scored.

"And as a much more competent and intelligent _Beater_," Sirius said, placing a delicate emphasis on the last word, "I would have taken that second Chaser out before they could complete the pass."

I chose to ignore what was clearly another jab at me for not knowing Sirius played on the Gryffindor team. "How do you know so much about their plays?" I asked Potter instead.

He raised his eyebrows. "Well, as Captain, it's my business to know. Besides, Ravenclaw hasn't changed their lineup in about three years, which usually makes them a fairly easy team to beat, if you pay attention."

"I didn't know you were Captain," I said, and immediately wished I hadn't. This was apparently much worse than my ignorance concerning Sirius. Potter, Sirius, and even Peter shot me scandalized looks. _Damn it, Lily, _I berated myself, _why can't you learn to keep your mouth shut? _When I turned to Mary for support, she just shook her head. "No, you're on your own with this one, Lily. Even I will admit that your ignorance is stunning."

I sighed impatiently. "Honestly, it's not that bad," I said. "I mean, it's not too strange to assume no one in their right mind would ever give Potter anything that requires a modicum of responsibility." When the others merely continued to stare at me, I tried again. "I can't be the only one who didn't know that."

Potter snorted. "No, I really think you are, actually. May I also point out that your other argument was faulty as well, since you said yourself only a couple weeks ago that I could be responsible."

"And I was properly shocked by that, too, if you remember," I retorted.

"Don't worry, Lily, Prongs takes everything to do with Quidditch very seriously," Sirius assured me with a smirk.

I rolled my eyes. "Oh, good, I wouldn't have been able to sleep tonight if I'd thought otherwise."

**OOOOOOOO**

The game ended shortly after that in a Slytherin victory of 210-90, which Sirius and Potter protested loudly along with every other non-Slytherin, but were secretly pleased about, considering the benefits for their own team. Or, _our _own team, as I should start thinking of it if I wanted to become 'a proper Quidditch fan,' Potter was kind enough to inform me. Mary had gone to console Andrew, while Sirius and Peter were currently walking ahead of Potter and I, recounting the finer points of the match

"Well, I'm not sure I _want_ to be a 'proper fan'—I've already been attacked twice today for what I thought were trivial things," I said seriously.

"Knowing who plays on the team and who its Captain is? Those are hardly trivial matters, Evans. Everyone who's actually attended this school for at least a year knows that much if not more about his or her own House team. Besides, if you're still trying to be friends with me, a general liking of and interest in Quidditch wouldn't go amiss," he added with a grin.

"If I'd known it was going to be this difficult, I'd never have suggested it," I said jokingly.

"I think you're more than up to the challenge," Potter said.

"Well, thank you."

"As for the Quidditch thing, at least say you'll come to our next game in three weeks. You basically promised me you would over the holiday, anyway."

"I did no such thing—don't try and guilt me into this, Potter," I said warningly. "But since today wasn't nearly as boring as I thought it would be, I guess I could handle a second game. Though it will be much less exciting without your brilliant commentary," I teased.

Potter stopped walking to face me, but didn't say anything.

"What?"

"You just complimented me."

"What? No I . . ." I thought back over what I'd just said. "Oh. I guess I did. Well, you're welcome."

"Thank you," Potter said, grinning at our backwards exchange. We started walking again. "Although, by the end of the game, I'll probably wish I _were _sitting with you instead of playing," he continued, sounding a little bitter.

"Why's that?"

"Chloe quit the team."

"Why?" I asked again. "I mean, okay, I imagine I could guess the reason, but . . . can she do that?"

Potter shrugged. "Apparently," he grumbled.

"So now you have no Seeker," I said, sympathetic to the mess this left Potter in. I knew enough about Quidditch to know that playing without a Seeker was possible, but winning without one was about as likely as a Niffler choosing a dull rock from a pile of shiny gold galleons.

"Well, that's not strictly true—we do have a reserve player, Robbie March. But he's only a second year, and not nearly as good as Chloe was. So unless I can miraculously locate a brilliant Seeker in the next week or so . . . we'll probably lose to Hufflepuff—bad enough in itself—and be out of the running for the Cup."

"I'm sorry," I said, meaning it. I knew how much Quidditch meant to Potter, even though I didn't quite understand the obsession.

He smiled at me. "Thanks, Evans." Suddenly, he reached out and tapped the shoulder of a small girl walking near him. I recognized her as one of the younger Gryffindor students—maybe first or second year. "Hey, sorry to bother you," Potter began, "but do you know who the Gryffindor Quidditch Captain is?"

The girl looked slightly thrown off by the question, not to mention flustered by being addressed by _the _James Potter. "Er, you?" she replied tentatively.

"Thanks," Potter said, turning triumphantly to me.

I rolled my eyes. "That hardly proves I was the only one in the school who didn't know that—plus, that girl was a Gryffindor."

"So are you, Evans," Potter pointed out.

Well, I couldn't argue with that.

**OOOOOOOO**

At the end of the second week in February, Potter came up to me in the common room. "Hey, Evans, I found a Seeker," he said excitedly.

I looked up from my Arithmancy homework. "That's great," I said, trying not to be annoyed that he'd interrupted me while I was working—see, now that's progress. But really, he couldn't have known that I was close to having a breakthrough on a particularly difficult problem and couldn't afford lapses in concentration. Hoping to give him a hint, I turned immediately back to the parchment balanced across my lap.

"Here, I'll introduce you," he said, and I wondered briefly why he felt this was necessary. I could just find out at the game, couldn't I?

"Look, Potter, I have to—"

"McMillan! C'mere!" Potter called, ignoring my half-phrased protest.

A rather attractive fifth year boy that I recognized vaguely (I was at least familiar with most of the Gryffindors in the years directly below and above me), looked up from where he was chatting with friends and trotted over to Potter and me. He had light green, almost yellow, eyes; contrasted with his dark brown hair, they were particularly striking.

"Evans, this is A.J. McMillan, A.J., this is—"

"Lily Evans, yeah, I know," A.J. said, grinning as he reached out to shake my hand. "Nice to meet you."

"Er, you too—have we met before?" I asked, a little confused as to how he knew my name, while I wouldn't have felt confident even taking a stab at his.

"No. Well, not technically. You gave me detention once—you caught me after-hours trying to sneak into Filch's office."

I didn't exactly remember this incident, but I raised my eyes to Potter, who was smirking appreciatively at his new teammate. "Well, I can see why you like him, Potter," I said dryly.

"He's a good Seeker, too," Potter replied defensively.

"At least, that's what he's been telling almost everyone he knows," A.J. added, and he sounded embarrassed rather than smug that his Captain had been showing him off.

"Well, better hope you do well next Saturday, then, haven't you?" I said teasingly.

A.J. winced. "Yeah, we'll see—I'll either be hailed as the next big thing, or shunned for the rest of my Hogwarts career and forced to go live in Moaning Myrtle's toilet."

I laughed, and Potter clapped his Seeker on the back.

"You'll be fine," he said confidently. "I never pick losers for my team—that's why we always win," he added matter-of-factly, earning an eye roll from both me and, to my surprise, A.J. Potter, noting our shared reactions, grinned slyly at me. But before I could ask what he was thinking, he said, "And you'll appreciate this, Evans—A.J. is also one of Chloe's exes."

I snorted. "Well, I guess I should warn Sirius—looks like you've found your new best mate."

"It'll be something to bond over, anyway," Potter agreed.

"Who knew there was someone else as thick and deluded as you at this school, Potter?" I cringed after I said this and immediately turned apologetically to A.J. "Sorry, that was supposed to be a jab at Potter, not you. Merlin, don't even know you. . . I'm not usually this insensitive to people I've just met—or anyone besides Potter, for that matter."

"How kind of you, Evans," Potter interjected sardonically.

"Sorry," I repeated to A.J., ignoring Potter.

But A.J. just grinned, reminding me even more forcibly of Potter—he seemed equally immune to my insults. "'S'okay," he said easily. "I'm fully aware that dating Chloe was an idiotic move. But I'd like to think there's at least some excuse for me—I was only fourteen, young and foolish—but James . . ." he shook his head in mock disappointment.

Potter glared at him. "Practice in five minutes, McMillan," was all he said, and I instantly felt a bond with the fifth year—after all, anyone who could put down Potter that effectively must be someone worth knowing.

Potter left to round up the rest of his teammates, but A.J. turned back to me, still grinning.

"I'd tell you not to let him push you around too much at practice," I said, "but it looks like you'll be able to handle yourself just fine."

"James is a great Quidditch Captain," A.J. said. "Or, so I've heard, anyway." Potter called to A.J. again from near the portrait hole. He glanced over his shoulder, then focused his brilliant eyes on mine once more. "Well, I'll see you around, Lily," he said before following the Gryffindor team from the common room.

I returned to my Arithmancy homework, finding that I hadn't really minded the interruption at all.

**OOOOOOOO**

"What were you doing talking to A.J.?" Mary asked later as we headed down to dinner. She, of course, was on a first-name basis with most of the fifth through seventh year Gryffindors, especially the male half. Not because she was an air-headed flirt, however—it had more to do with the fact that her affinity for remembering names was combined with a tolerance for Marlene and Dorcas's gossip that far surpassed mine. "I thought you'd explode at James for interrupting you when you were in your Arithmancy groove"—Mary, knowing that my temper often short-circuited when I tackled the dreaded subject, had wisely moved to a different part of the common room as soon as I'd opened the book—"but you didn't seem bothered by it. In fact, you seemed to rather _enjoy _it," she added, a sly smile eerily similar to Potter's on her face.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Mary just shrugged nonchalantly. Apropos of nothing—at least, that's what it felt like to me—Mary went on to ask, "A.J.'s awfully good-looking, isn't he?"

"Er, I don't really—"

"Gorgeous eyes, I've always thought," Mary continued, and the false innocence in her tone made me wary.

"You'd better not let Andrew hear y—" The dim-witted romantic side of myself—she doesn't get out much—finally cottoned on. "Wait, are you trying to say that I'm _attracted _to A.J.? Because that's ridiculous—I don't even know him!"

Mary sighed in frustration. "That hardly matters, Lily," she said wearily.

"And what about your Potter theories?"

"Well, by definition, theories exist to be proven wrong," Mary said sweetly.

"That doesn't even make s—" I began.

"You haven't answered my question," Mary interrupted.

"I don't recall a question hidden in all that rubbish," I said irritably.

"I've asked two, actually," Mary said indignantly as we sat down across from each other at the Gryffindor table.

I sighed, taking a moment to recollect the alleged questions. "Because Potter brought him over to meet me, and yes, I suppose he is," I said finally, answering them succinctly.

Mary only had time to smile triumphantly at me before we were joined by Potter, Sirius, and, to Mary's delight (and secretly mine, I'll admit), A.J.

"Hello ladies," Sirius said with a wink.

"How was practice?" Mary asked.

"Should I go warn Moaning Myrtle she'll soon have an unexpected houseguest?" I added, mostly to A.J.

He grinned at me. "Nah, I think I'll be safe on that end."

"Oh good," I replied, heaving a fake sigh of relief. "I'd expect she'd be rather dull to live with, and toilet water really does nothing for one's complexion."

"Except maybe for yours, Evans," Sirius said with a smirk.

"You really can't resist, can you?" I asked with a sigh.

"Don't mind him," Potter said, "he's just jealous."

"Of?"

"Of your beautiful skin, of course," A.J. answered.

I tried not to blush, because I didn't want to give Mary (or Potter, for that matter, as he seemed far too amused by the situation) the satisfaction.

"Excuse me, but I have great skin!" Sirius protested indignantly. "Don't I?" he asked Mary, who had yet to participate in the (mostly absurd) conversation.

"I think you're both pretty," she said diplomatically, and Sirius didn't seem to know whether to look satisfied or offended.

"Anyway, to clarify, since we've gotten a bit off topic—yes, A.J. is, as I knew he would be, a marvelous Seeker," Potter said.

"Better than Chloe?" I asked.

"Now, Evans, that is a touchy subject for both of us; I'd appreciate it if you exercised a little sensitivity."

I rolled my eyes. "Bullshit—I know you could give a damn, Potter, because you haven't shown an iota of disappointment about it since you two broke up."

"Maybe I just haven't shown it around you," he countered.

"Yes, he's been crying himself to sleep every night," Sirius said.

Potter glared at him. "Helpful, thanks Padfoot."

"Hey, you could've just agreed with Lily, and then I wouldn't have been tempted to make you look bad."

"I can't agree with Evans, I thought you'd know that by now."

"Shame on you, Sirius," I added, shaking my head. Potter and I grinned at each other.

Mary raised her eyebrows at the pair of us. "Sometimes I do not understand you two."

**OOOOOOOO**

We sat and chatted long after we'd all finished eating, until I realized how late it was and reluctantly rose from the table to finish my homework.

"Who does homework?" Sirius scoffed.

"People who don't fancy McGonagall murdering them in class tomorrow," I replied, as Mary stood beside me.

"Yeah, I'd better hit the books as well," she said unenthusiastically, "if I want to finish before midnight."

"Me too," Potter said to everyone's surprise, including his. He frowned as soon as he'd spoken, cocking his head to the side slightly. "Huh. That's weird—not sure where that came from."

Sirius looked truly worried for his friend's sanity. "Prongs, what are you doing?"

"Starting my homework before nine o'clock, apparently. I might even work ahead on tomorrow's," he added with a wink, a smirk spreading across his face as Sirius's eyes widened in horror.

"What's happened to you?" he whispered. "What have you done to him?" he demanded of me in a louder voice.

I held up my hands. "Hey, this has nothing to do with me."

"Well, I'll stay a bit longer, Black, if you want," A.J. offered.

"Thank you—us sane ones must stick together for our own safety, after all."

Mary sighed, I rolled my eyes, and Potter hit his friend on the back of the head before we started from the Great Hall.

"He likes you, A.J. does," Potter said as soon as we'd cleared the doors.

"Hard as it may be for you to believe, Potter, I am a very likeable person," I said lightly, though I knew exactly what he was hinting at.

"No, I mean he _likes _you," he repeated, emphasizing the word so I'd be in no doubt of his meaning.

"Right, like you could even tell from that short interaction," I replied.

"Yes, I could, actually," Potter persisted.

"He called you beautiful," Mary put in.

"Exactly—thank you, Mary."

"You're welcome."

"What? No he didn't," I said, by now failing miserably in fighting the blush that had been creeping up my neck since Potter's first words out of the Hall.

"You're just in denial," Mary said.

"There was definite flirting going on, Evans. On both ends, I might add."

"Oh, she hasn't a clue what flirting looks like, James, so I wouldn't expect her to have noticed that."

"That was hurtful and cruel, Mary Macdonald," I retorted. "And you're both acting like a pair of vapid, gossipy teenage girls."

Somewhat to my amusement, both looked equally offended by this. Potter recovered first, unsurprisingly.

"Well, I bet you five galleons he'll ask you out before the end of March," he told me.

"I'm _not _betting—"

"Five galleons, Evans," Potter interrupted, stopping to hold out his hand for me to shake.

"Will you promise to shut up about it til then?"

Potter shrugged. "I suppose I could do that."

After a brief internal debate in which I weighed the chances of A.J. actually doing what Potter was suggesting and how much I would regret agreeing to a bet with Potter, I grasped his hand in mine and pumped it firmly. "You're on."

**

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A/N: Okay, don't hate me for introducing the A.J. subplot. Actually, it's a pretty new development—I hadn't planned on it at all when I started this story….we'll see how it goes. And if you still don't like it, I merely point you to the story's summary, where I clearly state that James and Lily won't get together until right at the end—well, all right, not that clearly. But I'm telling you now, anyway.**


	15. Swan Dive

**A/N: Thanks so much to last week's reviewers:**** SecretBlack, Leeease, Cassie Weasley, MissArtemisFowl, MaryandMerlin, Silver Scorpion, EchoNightFall22, Kriish, Evisawesome, BrokenFaerie16, Mrs. Belikov814 (I'm not really sure on the number of chapters…I just sort of write, and see where it ends up!), stars-and-sons, and theycallherkaush!**

**Rose replied to my reply last week. Honestly, can someone explain to me why this girl is still reading? Anyway…no snarky response from me this time—not worth it.**

**Who's going to see DH at midnight this week? (I probably won't, since one of my friends is coming to visit me this weekend, and I promised I'd wait and go with her. Either way, I'm SOO EXCITED TO SEE IT!)**

**

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Chapter 14: Swan Dive**

The Thursday night before Gryffindor's Saturday match against Hufflepuff found me—shockingly—in the library. I was searching for a book on Patronuses for an essay Galbraithe had assigned. We'd touched on the subject last year, and I'd found it fascinating how the silvery protectors supposedly represented the individual's personality, like a wizarding Zodiac sign. Of course, I'd immediately tried the spell to see what shape my Patronus took. It turned out to be a doe, so I don't really know what that said about me—that I was skittish and timid? Not exactly flattering—but I'd been interested enough despite that to look up more on the topic in the library. I'd found a great book, one that would be perfect for the essay I was currently trying to write . . . but of course the stupid thing was nowhere to be found. My fascination with Patronuses was waning quickly in light of my frustration.

"Damn it," I said quietly, shoving _A Comprehensive Review of Defensive Magic _back into the stacks forcefully. I had half a mind to write a letter to the author informing him that the book didn't deserve its title if there was no mention of Patronuses between its covers.

"Taking your anger out on inanimate objects? Not exactly a healthy coping strategy, is it?"

I jumped slightly at the unexpected voice—I hadn't seen anyone enter the row I was currently searching. Turning to find its source, I found myself looking into A.J.'s grinning face. Part of me immediately noticed the way his light eyes nearly shone in the low lighting of the library, and this observation momentarily blocked out all other thoughts. I promptly slapped that part out of the way and told it to stop acting so silly.

"Yes, I have a personal vendetta against books that I sometimes just can't control," I said, sighing dramatically and pleased with myself for recovering so quickly. "I'm in therapy for it, though."

A.J. laughed quietly. "Good—the poor books don't deserve to suffer the famous wrath of Lily Evans," he said, patting the spine of a book beside him.

"Famous?" I repeated skeptically. "I hardly think so."

"Are you serious? Your temper is legendary, my dear."

I wrinkled my nose. "Not really something I want to be known for."

"Well, don't worry—it's mostly well known only as it concerns one James Potter."

It was my turn to laugh. "You're making that up—no one pays attention to what Potter and I do."

"Maybe not by choice, but it's rather hard to ignore when you're shouting at each other across the common room. I'm fairly certain all of Gryffindor and probably at least half the school has witnessed a James and Lily row." I blushed slightly—A.J. was right; I'm sure I'd made a spectacle of myself over the years where Potter was concerned. Though that had changed this year, hadn't it? We'd only rowed . . . what? Well, all right, a fair number of times, but nothing compared to our usual display of tempers. _Plus, you're friends now_, I reminded myself.

As though he'd read my mind, A.J. continued, "But those might be a thing of the past, since you're friends now, aren't you?"

"No," my old Potter-hating self answered automatically. I winced. "Damn, I have to stop doing that. I meant yes. Or, that's the general . . . idea, anyway."

Throughout my babbling, A.J.'s eyebrows had climbed higher and higher on his forehead, and a bemused smile now stretched across his lips. "The 'general idea' is that you're friends? What does that even mean?"

I sighed. "I don't know. Okay, so, I've had sort of a—a revelation, I suppose you could call it, this year. I've realized—and I fully understand how stupid this is going to sound—that Potter's a decent person, and that perhaps it's been unfair of me to hate him for so long, so we're going to try and be friends." I winced again and resumed looking for the Patronus book, too embarrassed to see A.J.'s reaction. "Merlin, that sounds quite pathetic and juvenile, doesn't it?"

"A bit," he agreed easily, and I did look at him then to shoot him a glare. "But it also sounds pretty straightforward, so I'm still a little confused about your uncertainty."

I sighed again. "Well, I don't know how I'll know if we _are _friends—I mean, nothing's that different between us, and I'm sure we'll still fight—"

"I think friends are allowed to fight, Lily," A.J. said, amused. "That's not a very valid measure of friendship."

"Well, then, that's exactly the problem! How'm I supposed to know if we're friends or not if nothing has changed? I mean, I can't even call him—" I broke off.

A.J. raised an eyebrow. "Can't call him what?"

"I can't call him by his first name," I mumbled quickly, looking away again. A.J. snorted. "Oh, shut up," I snapped. "He doesn't use mine, either."

"Sure he does," A.J. said, sounding surprised.

I looked at him sharply. "What?"

"He calls you 'Lily,'" he said.

"No, I'm pretty sure I would have noticed that," I retorted.

A.J. shrugged. "Okay, maybe he doesn't call you that directly, but when he's talking about you, he does."

I stared at him. This was unacceptable news. I refused to be more pathetic than Potter. "Well then," I said determinedly. "James it is." Though I'd never admit it to anyone, the name felt decidedly strange coming off my tongue.

"See, now, that wasn't so hard, was it?" A.J. teased.

I shoved him in annoyance. Either I wasn't aware of my own strength, or A.J. hadn't been prepared for my reaction, because he stumbled backwards, knocking several books off the shelf in an attempt to keep himself from falling over. I reached out and grabbed his arm to steady him. "Sorry," I said. "Though I should warn you, I'll hit you much harder than that if you tell P—James about any part of this conversation."

A.J. held up his hands. "Consider me sufficiently forewarned."

I looked at him shrewdly. "You haven't promised not to tell him," I pointed out. Friends or no, I'd had enough experience with James—and the Marauders, come to that—to let A.J. get by without a solid agreement.

He grinned as we knelt to pick up the books he'd displaced. "Fine, I promise."

I picked up the last book, glancing at its cover before sliding it back into place. Freezing with my hand halfway to the shelf, I stared at the title: _Patronus: Protector or Personality Test?_ This was the book I'd found last year, and I wondered vaguely how I hadn't remembered the title. Looking up at A.J., I smiled brightly at him. "Thanks," I said, and, leaving him looking slightly confused, I returned to my table.

**OOOOOOOO**

"I'm actually kind of nervous—is that weird?" I asked Mary Saturday morning at breakfast.

"No," she informed me. She sighed nostalgically. "Lily, I'm so impressed by how much you've grown this year. Friends with James, nerves before Quidditch games, and an almost-boyfriend—"

"Okay, will you stop with that?" I demanded, looking furtively around for A.J. I spotted him farther along the table, eating with his teammates—thankfully out of earshot. "Honestly, you and Potter are far too obsessed with my love life." I frowned. "Which is actually kind of creepy on his end, though, in light of that, I would like to take the chance to say: I told you so. In fact, I can't believe I've taken this long to rub it in your face—this clearly means he is not nor was he ever in love with me." I gave Mary a 'ha-ha, so there' look.

"Well, it doesn't prove he _wasn't _in love with you, though I suppose it no longer really makes sense to think he's still in love with you."

"Who's in love with you, Evans?" Potter's voice asked pleasantly from behind me.

I sent Mary a look that said I'd get her for this later, before turning and replying in what I hoped was a convincing we-haven't-just-been-talking-about-you voice, "No one, Potter."

"Well, I wouldn't go so far as to assume that," James replied, glancing pointedly to where A.J. was approaching with the rest of the team.

I glared at him. "I thought you promised not to bring that up until after our bet expired."

Potter made a little bow to me. "That I did—my apologies, Evans."

"Ready, O Captain my Captain?" A.J. asked with a cheeky grin.

"Absoultely, Rookie—I'm just making sure Evans is actually coming to the game today."

"I'll be there, Potter," I promised with half a glance at A.J. to see if he too was thinking about our library conversation. By the way he met my gaze with a careful innocence, I assumed he was, though there was a hint of mischievous sparkle in his eyes that I didn't trust.

"Good," James replied. "Right, team, we're off!" he added in a louder voice.

I shivered as Mary and I sat down in the stands along with Andrew, who'd joined us to watch the game. "Brrr, it's freezing up here!" I exclaimed, crossing my arms to try and hold in what little heat I had left after walking down to the pitch. "I think it's colder than when we were here for your game, Andrew."

He glowered at the mention of the game—Mary said he'd been sulking ever since.

"Sorry," I said. "I didn't mean to bring it up—"

Andrew shook his head. "No, it's all right. I should probably be over it by now, anyway," he added with a somewhat bitter grin.

"Yeah, it's only a game, right?" I said jokingly, trying to lighten the mood. But apparently this was one of the worst things I could have said.

Andrew stared at me as though I'd suggested he should murder his mother. "You really don't understand Quidditch, do you?"

A little hurt, I just shrugged and turned awkwardly to watch for the players to emerge from the changing rooms.

"What the hell is your problem lately?" I heard Mary hiss to Andrew.

"What? You know how much Quidditch means to me!"

Mary snorted. "But that doesn't mean you have to be a prick about it! Honestly, Andrew, ever since that game, you've been incredibly dull to be around, sulking all the time—"

"Oh, well I'm sorry that I'm not a bright ray of sunshine every minute for you! Maybe you could try being a little understanding, as my _girlfriend_."

I was beginning to feel decidedly uncomfortable, and was almost glad when Mary jumped up and said, none-too-quietly, "Well, maybe I won't be your _girlfriend _much longer!" and stormed from the stands.

"Wait, Mary—I didn't mean it!" As Andrew hurried after her, trying to apologize, I quickly took back what I'd thought about Mary leaving. I didn't really fancy watching the game by myself—not that I minded doing things alone, but Quidditch games were more of a social activity.

"Lily!" I looked up as someone called my name, and was, for nearly the first time in my life, immensely glad to see Dorcas and Marlene climbing up the rows towards me. "Can we sit with you?"

"Sure," I said, and my dorm mates proceeded to take the seats Mary and Andrew had just vacated.

"Did you come here by yourself?" Marlene asked, almost pityingly.

"No," I said quickly, though I wasn't sure why I felt I had to justify myself to her. I explained briefly about Mary and Andrew's argument, and barely refrained from rolling my eyes as Marlene and Dorcas exchanged intrigued looks. "Oooh, I wonder if they'll break up?" Dorcas asked, sounding positively thrilled by the idea.

"I'm sure she'd appreciate that," I muttered.

"What?"

"Nothing."

Just then, the noise level in the stands rose abruptly, and I looked up to see the two teams entering the pitch.

"God, doesn't James have the cutest butt?" Marlene sighed as the two Captains stepped up to shake hands.

"You say that at every game, Marlene," Dorcas pointed out. "And several times between games as well."

"I know, but it's true!" Marlene defended. "Don't you think so, Lily?"

I was concentrating too hard on not laughing to be worried by the sly tone in her voice. "Mmm," I agreed, figuring I might as well play along.

I pretended not to see the knowing looks that Dorcas and Marlene exchanged as the players took off into the chilly air.

"Wait, who's that?" Dorcas asked, pointing to A.J. as he soared above the rest of the players to afford himself the best vantage point to search for the Snitch.

"A.J. McMillan, the new Seeker," I supplied, pleased to be able to contribute something that Marlene and Dorcas would find worthy of gossip.

"What happened to Chloe?" Dorcas inquired.

Before I could answer that too, Marlene jumped in, "She quit after she and James broke up, remember?"

"Oh, that's right."

"So A.J.'s the new Seeker?" Marlene continued with a grin. "Nice choice, James," she said in an appreciative tone that I was sure had nothing to do with A.J.'s potential talent.

"He's got a nice butt too," Dorcas commented.

"Which is exactly why James chose him, I'm sure," I said seriously. Marlene and Dorcas looked at me oddly, and I just smiled to myself. _Honestly, those girls have no sense of humor_.

They continued to gossip throughout the match, not paying much attention to the game itself at all. I participated occasionally, but, as I've said, I had a fairly low gossip tolerance, so I mostly watched the Quidditch, which is what I'd come to do, after all.

It was still exciting, though slightly more confusing, without James's commentary. Nevertheless, even my inexperienced eyes could tell James had put together quite a good team. He and his Chasers, Mickey Marshall and Ellen Dawson, moved as a seamless unit, passing the Quaffle between each other almost too quickly for me to follow. Sirius and the other Beater, Maren Quincy, protected their Chasers and harried the other side fairly well, for the most part. I made a mental note to complement Sirius on his exceptional Beating skills the next time I saw him.

I'd always thought Keeper would be the most difficult position to play, and was duly impressed by Jordan Kapper's ability to swerve among the three hoops to prevent Hufflepuff from scoring. They made some goals, of course, but the score had soon risen 100 to 30 in Gryffindor's favor.

I watched A.J. occasionally, but he wasn't that exciting to follow, as he mostly flew slowly back and forth searching for the elusive Snitch. However, shortly after Ellen had scored Gryffindor's fifteenth goal, A.J. finally got some action. Apparently spotting the Snitch, he went into a steep dive, Hufflepuff's Seeker close on his tail. Concentrating on the tiny winged ball in front of him, he didn't see the Bludger sent his way by one of Hufflepuff's Beaters; neither did his teammates, wrapped up as they were in the Seekers' race to the Snitch, until it was too late.

A.J. noticed the Bludger just before it collided with his head, and he swerved sharply to avoid this unpleasant fate. However, maintaining one's seat when one swerves in the middle of a dive is nearly impossible, and A.J. tumbled off his broom. Luckily, his pursuit of the Snitch had brought him near the ground, so he didn't have far to fall. But by the way Marlene and Dorcas—as well as half the people in the stands—screamed, A.J. might as well have been attacked by a crazy ax murderer.

I rolled my eyes. It had been a little scary to watch A.J. hit the ground, but he was clearly—

"I think he's been knocked out!" Marlene exclaimed worriedly, hands over her mouth.

_Oh. I guess he's not okay, _I thought, a little guiltily. I didn't think he'd fallen quite so hard, but Marlene was right—he wasn't moving.

Preoccupied as everyone was with A.J.'s injury, it was a few minutes before the news began to spread slowly through the stands—the Hufflepuff Seeker, unimpeded by Bludgers, had caught the Snitch. Hufflepuff had won. I groaned along with everyone else, but more for James's sake, as I knew how much he'd hate losing to Hufflepuff.

"We're going to go see if A.J.'s okay—see you, Lily!" Dorcas called to me as she and Marlene hurried down through the stands.

I followed at a slower pace, rolling my eyes again. _It's not like there'll be anything they can do. Besides, they're not friends with him or anything—they didn't even know who he was before the game started! He won't care whether they went to check on him or not. Not to mention he won't even know, since he's unconscious! _I wasn't sure why I was getting so defensive, but I supposed sitting with Marlene and Dorcas throughout the game had more than fulfilled my silly girl quota for the day, and this latest move was just more than I could handle.

I stopped near the bottom of the stands and watched the proceedings at the other end of the pitch. A.J. had been magicked onto a stretcher and was currently being directed by Madame Pomfrey towards the castle. As he passed under me, I hopped down the last two rows of seats to fall into step with James, who was following A.J.

"Sorry you lost to Hufflepuff," I said.

James grinned at me. "Hey, Evans—it's all right, they only just beat us, so I think we'll still be okay for the Cup."

"Oh, well that's good."

"And I think A.J.'s going to be okay, too," he added with a sly wink.

"I was so worried," I said sardonically.

"So, did you enjoy the game? Up until the losing part, that is."

"Yeah, it was alright," I said. I told him what had happened with Mary and Andrew.

"Merlin, Evans, at this rate you're going to single-handedly break those two up," he teased.

I wrinkled my nose. "God, I hope not—Mary would never forgive me."

"Did you sit by yourself, then?"

"No, Marlene and Dorcas came to sit with me. We talked about your butt," I added matter-of-factly.

"Sorry?"

I nodded. "You heard me. We discussed A.J.'s as well."

"So, overall, a fairly good game, then," Potter said, grinning. "And what, may I ask, were the conclusions concerning the rear ends in question?"

"No comment."

"Aw, come on, Evans."

"Nope."

"Well, you're no fun at all. Anyway, you heading up to visit A.J. and his fabulous bum?"

"Okay, enough with the butt talk. And if that's where you're going, sure, I'll come with you."

Potter grinned at me. "Right, making it sound like you'll come along because you have nothing better to do—but I'll bet you were _so worried _when you saw him hit the ground."

"Oh yeah, you know me," I said sarcastically. "Maybe if Dorcas and Marlene hadn't screamed my bloody ear off, I'd have been able to concentrate enough to show concern. Honestly, I don't know what they were so worked up about—it's not like he died or anything."

Potter snorted. "Well, he'll appreciate the sentiment, I'm sure."

"Oh, shut it, Potter."

We hung around outside the hospital wing for a bit while Madame Pomfrey saw to A.J., the rest of the team joining us as well. She absolutely would not let us in until she'd brought him round—and really, it's not like we could have done much when he was unconscious, so none of us protested her orders. Finally, we were allowed into the room, though Madame Pomfrey limited the number of visitors to five, so only Sirius, Ellen, Maren, James and I gathered around A.J.'s bed. He had a good-sized lump on his head and still looked slightly dazed, but he grinned when he saw us.

"Sorry to let you down, Captain," he apologized to James.

"Well, I'll forgive you this time, Rookie," he replied. "Even if you did make us lose to Hufflepuff—it wasn't strictly your fault."

"Yeah, I should've had you covered," Sirius said.

"Anyway, they only beat us by thirty points—" James continued.

"—so if Slytherin doesn't clobber Hufflepuff—" Ellen started.

Sirius snorted. "Right, fat chance of that."

"But they're only fifty points ahead of us right now, aren't they?" Maren asked.

"Yeah, so if they only win by fifty or so . . ." A.J. said.

The Quidditch talk continued, and I sort of spaced out disinterestedly. So when I suddenly found everyone looking at me expectantly, I knew I'd missed something. "What?"

"I said, I didn't know you cared," A.J. said with an evil grin.

"What?" I repeated, definitely wishing I'd been paying attention.

"I told him how you were in hysterics about him, wondering if he was all right," Potter said pleasantly.

I glared at him. "Potter, that is not bloody true, and you know it."

"Right, well, it's better than what you _did _say," he retorted.

I turned to A.J. "Don't listen to him, he's just—"

But Potter continued to talk over me. "I believe the exact quote was, 'it's not like he died or anything.'"

A.J. laughed. I cringed and glared harder at Potter.

A smug smile on his face, he looked back at A.J. "Anyway, there's still going to be a party, since we clearly _should _have won, so if Pomfrey lets you out anytime soon—I'm sure it'll go on all night, as usual."

"I'll be there," A.J. said confidently, which I thought was a little optimistic, seeing as how Madame Pomfrey had been known to keep people overnight for a paper cut.

**OOOOOOOO**

But to my surprise, A.J. showed up about halfway through the party, which is the perfect time to come, actually, because it's late enough that people are entertainingly intoxicated but not too far gone to be out of control or puking everywhere.

"Rookie, you made it!" James shouted immediately upon his arrival. Shoving a drink into his hand, he dragged him over to where the rest of the team plus Remus and Peter were gathered near the fire.

"I can't believe we lost to Hufflepuff," Mary muttered for about the tenth time that day. She and Andrew, thankfully, were still together, and she'd passed along his apology to me when she'd returned to the common room a couple hours ago. "I'm glad I wasn't there to witness it. At least it's finally made Andrew get over losing to Slytherin—though he's only going to be more annoying now, holding this over my head."

"Why? It's not like you were on the team."

"Yes, but it's the principle of the thing."

Just then, A.J. broke away from his teammates and started towards us. Mary winked at me and said, "I'm going to go talk to Dorcas and Marlene—see you later, Lil."

I narrowed my eyes after her retreating form, but smiled as A.J. approached. "So, you escaped from Madame Pomfrey—I'm impressed."

"Yeah, escape is actually a rather appropriate word—she was checking on me every fifteen minutes or so, so I waited until she'd gone back into her office after one of the check-ups and, er, snuck out."

I raised my eyebrows. "Oh, she is going to hunt you down for that."

He shrugged. "I know. But it's worth it, I think. Can't miss an after party, after all."

"They are pretty legendary," I agreed.

"So, what's the drunkest you've ever gotten at one of these?"

"I, er, actually don't drink," I said.

A.J. raised his eyebrows. "Really? You realize that's basically the point of these things, right?"

"Yes, but I've found it's much more entertaining observing others follow that rule."

A.J. toasted me with his drink. "Fair enough." He took a sip. "Actually, there's probably quite a bit of truth to that." Downing the rest of his drink, he tossed the cup carelessly on the table behind us. "Okay, I'm game. No more drinking the rest of the night. So, how does this work?"

"Well, sometimes I try and predict who's going to end up snogging who. Like . . . oh, see that fourth year over there?" I pointed to a girl who was surrounded by five fifth year boys. She was laughing excessively at everything they said and rocking slightly back and forth as though she wasn't quite in tune with her center of gravity. "She's definitely going to hook up with one of those fifth years."

"The guy right in front of her," A.J. said assuredly.

"You think so? I was going to say the guy on her right."

"Nah, my guy's way more into her than yours."

"Yeah, but sometimes it's better to play it cool—if he comes off too desperate, she'll just lose interest."

A.J. raised his eyebrows, and I grinned at him.

"Trust me, I've had a lot of practice with this."

"With what—this game, or hooking up with slightly intoxicated strangers?" he inquired, smirking.

I elbowed him lightly. "This game, obviously."

A.J. laughed. "Sure, sure, whatever you say, Lily." We watched the girl and her potential snogging partners for a while, and then A.J. spoke again. "You going to Hogsmeade next weekend?"

"I don't know—I've told Mary she could spend it with Andrew, and I usually don't go if I'm not going with her, just because it's kind of boring, but—"

"You could go with James," A.J. suggested. "You know, have some friend bonding time, maybe practice calling each other by your first names."

I glared at him. "Funny."

"Or you could go with me," he said.

I blinked at him for a moment—I hadn't been expecting that. "Okay," I heard myself say eventually. Too late, I remembered James's and my bet. _Shit, _I thought, _he's never going to let me live this down. Well, hopefully it's worth it. _Glancing at A.J. who had turned back to observing the crowd with a somewhat idiotic grin on his face, I couldn't help but smile myself. _I have a feeling it will be._

Just then, the fourth year we'd been watching took the hand of the guy I'd been rooting for and led him tipsily from the common room. I turned triumphantly to A.J. "Told you."

**

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A/N: I forgot to mention this at the beginning, but some people are wondering why James seems to be encouraging the A.J. development . . . well, there's this little thing I like to call 'denial.' Anyway, all will become clear. Eventually.**


	16. Feel It

**A/N: Review EXPLOSION this week! Haha. Anyway, thanks very much to: DarlingILoveYou, I Love LJ, Evisawesome, Aen 06 (I update on Sundays, pretty much religiously, b/c I'm OCD like that), WobblyJelly, .forever2116, Silver Scorpion, EchoNightFall22, person who did not sign their review ;), Alice Demer, BrokenFaerie16, WanderHigher, stars-and-sons, existence555, MaryandMerlin, , SecretBlack, A La DarkAngel, theycallherkaush, aqualuck, and Sam-EvansBlue.**

**Several of you have asked how many chapters I think this story is going to be. Answer: I have no idea. Sorry. I'll let you know when I start to get a sense for where it's going to end. I mean, I can tell you that it'll be partway through their seventh year. But I'm not sure how long it will take me to get there ;)**

**Saw Deathly Hallows. For my unofficial review, see the A/N at the end (in case some of you haven't seen it yet).**

**I'm not sure how I feel about this chapter. Parts of it seem forced. But I rather like the end ;)**

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Chapter 15: Feel It**

I didn't see Potter until lunchtime the next day, when he finally dragged his more than slightly hungover self to the Great Hall.

"So, this is a more normal you after a party than the day after New Year's, huh?" I commented as he slouched down onto the bench across from me, beside Mary. Sirius sat down in a similar manner next to him, with Remus and Peter—looking more or less normal—settling down on my right.

James nodded, apparently unable to summon the strength to actually form words, and pulled the nearest dish of food—it happened to be sausages—towards him.

"I can't believe you can eat right now," Sirius moaned. He had poured himself a cup of coffee and was sipping it carefully.

"I can always eat," James replied.

"I know," Sirius grumbled. "And I sodding hate you for it."

"Well, congrats to the two of you for escaping the wrath of alcohol this time," I said, nodding to Remus and Peter.

"Yeah, I learned my lesson at New Year's," Remus said fervently. "That was bloody awful."

"No more drinking," Peter added resolutely.

"Come off it, Wormtail, you say that every time," Sirius scoffed.

"Well, this time I mean it."

"Right," Sirius said doubtfully. "As for you, Moony, well, I'm more apt to believe you'll stand by a no drinking resolution."

"I never said anything about not drinking again," Remus said mildly, surprising me and eliciting appreciative chuckles from James and Sirius.

"Speaking of resolutions," I said, rolling my eyes at Potter, "or bets, rather—here." I plunked five galleons in front of Potter, who looked confused for a moment before sitting up straight and shooting me a victorious grin, seeming miraculously cured of his hangover.

"Oh-my-God-he-asked-you-out?" Mary shrieked, running her words together in excitement. "Why didn't you tell me!" she added indignantly.

"Who asked Evans out?" Sirius inquired.

"I don't know; I guess it just slipped my mind," I said to Mary, ignoring Sirius's question.

"Ouch, Lily—maybe I'll take my offer back, then," a teasing voice said behind me.

Sometimes I wondered what I'd done in my past life to deserve such cruel treatment by fate.

I turned to look at A.J., feeling a flush creep into my cheeks. "I didn't—um, hi," I said lamely. I heard Potter snort behind me and did my best not to cringe.

A.J. just flashed me a smile and continued along the table to sit with the friends he'd apparently come down with.

I turned around again with a sigh. Potter was struggling hard not to laugh. "Smooth, Evans—you're lucky he _did _ask you out."

"Wait, who asked her out?" Peter asked.

"A.J.!" Sirius, James and Mary chorused in unison. I winced, sure the subject of our conversation must have heard that. And, indeed, when I glanced down the table, I found him looking over towards our group. Catching my eye, he winked before turning away. I winced again as I returned my focus to the conversation.

"Honestly, Wormtail, pay attention," James was saying.

"There must have at least been a Confundus Charm involved, though, right?" Sirius added as Potter laughed. "I thought McMillan had some taste, at least."

"You two are horrible," Remus chided his friends as I lobbed bits of toast at each of them.

"Aw, Evans knows were joking, don't you?" Potter asked me.

"If by that you're wondering whether I realize it's yours and Black's mission in life to annoy me until I blow your heads off in frustration, then yes."

"Maybe we should back down, mate—she sounded serious about that head explosion thing," Sirius said with mock apprehension.

"Nah, she wouldn't do it. We're friends now, remember?" Potter grinned cheekily at me.

"Until I regain my misplaced sanity," I muttered.

"Anyway," Mary said. "Back to more important topics—"

"My lost sanity is fairly important to me," I pointed out.

"As is whether or not my head remains attached to my neck," Sirius put in.

Mary ignored us both—a slightly more difficult feat in my case, as I was the one to whom she directed her next words, "How did he ask you?"

"What do you mean? He just asked me."

"No, what did he _say_, exactly?"

I thought back to our conversation and grinned in spite of myself. "It was actually kind of clever—"

I broke off abruptly as Potter let out another snort of laughter.

"And I'll tell you later in private," I said to Mary, resisting the urge to throw more food at Potter. "Let's eat, shall we?"

**OOOOOOOO**

"It's kind of weird, isn't it?" I asked Mary on the Saturday morning of my date with A.J. "To go out with someone I don't even know?"

Mary looked up in exasperation from my closet, where she was currently selecting my outfit. Even though I'd told her it didn't much matter, as I'd be wearing a coat anyway. "Lily, how many times do I have to tell you? You don't have to know someone to like them, or date them, or do pretty much anything with them! How do you think the term 'one night stand' got invented?"

"Okay, you have a point there. But it's weird for _me_, isn't it?"

Mary considered this for a moment. "Don't take this the wrong way, but since you've never actually dated anyone, there's no way of knowing what's weird for you to do, really."

_Well, that's true_. "Fair enough," I said, hopping off my bed to monitor Mary's sweater selection. We'd already agreed on a pair of jeans—they were my favorite, so it wasn't a hard decision.

"How about this one?" Mary asked, holding up a blue v-neck cashmere sweater.

I shrugged. "Looks good to me."

...

"Okay, have fun, and only laugh if he actually says something funny, because otherwise it looks like you're trying too hard, and remember not to let it show if you're nervous—"

"Mary," I interrupted to stop her babbling. "This is me, remember? Honestly, I think _you're_ more nervous than I am."

"Sorry, I'm just excited for you! I'll want a fully detailed report _as soon_ as you get back—even if you have to wake me up. No waiting until _noon _the next day!"

I smiled at her. "I promise."

"Good. Well, have fun!" she repeated as Andrew approached us in the Entrance Hall.

"Thanks—you too."

She and Andrew exited the front doors, and I tried not to concentrate on how hot I was in my coat, hat and mittens as I waited for A.J. I hadn't just been lying to Mary for her sake—I really wasn't that nervous. Maybe I should have been—weren't first dates supposed to be awkward?—but surely a lack of nerves was preferable.

Just when I was considering stepping out for a minute to cool off, A.J. appeared at the top of the marble staircase. He grinned as he reached the last stair. "Hey," he said, striding over to me. "Ready?"

"God yes—I'm boiling in here," I replied. Probably not information one usually shares on a first date, but oh well.

A.J. laughed and held the front door open for me. "Sorry to keep you waiting. Good to see you didn't melt or anything."

I sighed in contentment as the cool March air washed over us. Out of habit, I shoved my hands into the pockets of my coat, wondering a moment later whether I should have left them free. Would A.J. expect me to hold hands with him? Probably. But it would look strange if I suddenly took my hands back out of my pockets, right? Maybe this first date stuff was more complicated than I'd originally thought.

I glanced surreptitiously at A.J. and was relieved to see he'd put his hands in his pockets as well. I also noticed he wasn't wearing a hat, and, while I'd been hot inside the castle, I was definitely glad to have my ears covered now.

"Bit daring of you, going out with no hat in the middle of winter, isn't it?" I asked as we started down the road that would lead us to Hogsmeade.

A.J. shrugged. "I don't get cold very easily. And it's not exactly the middle of winter—we're almost halfway through March, after all."

"Well, I consider any day that there's snow on the ground the middle of winter," I replied, causing A.J. to laugh. "Though I'm a little jealous of the hat thing—my hair always gets all static-y whenever I wear one. Makes me look quite mad when I take it off."

A.J. raised his eyebrows. "Sounds exciting—I'll look forward to that."

As we entered the High Street, we paused.

"I'm assuming you're more of a Three Broomsticks girl than a Madame Puddifoot's girl?" A.J. asked with a grin.

I could have hugged him for saying that. I hadn't even thought about Madame Puddifoot's when I'd speculated about this date, but if I had, the prospect that he might want to take me there would have definitely caused a sufficient level of first-date nerves. "You have no idea how glad I am to hear you say that," I said.

A.J.'s grin widened and we set off for the nearby pub. "I'm glad to be able to say it," he assured me. "Just the thought of that place makes me want to run back up to the castle and hide under my bed."

I laughed. "So, you've had some good experiences in there, huh?" I asked as we entered the Three Broomsticks and made for a booth in the back.

"You don't want to know," A.J. muttered.

"Well, now I definitely do," I said, sliding into the booth across from A.J.

A.J. shook his head. "I think past girlfriends are more of a second or third date topic," he informed me.

"Fine," I said, pretending to be disappointed and trying to ignore the way my stomach flipped excitedly at the mention of more dates. I pulled off my mittens and shrugged out of my coat, then paused with my hands halfway to my hat. "Now I'm self conscious about taking this off," I accused.

A.J. just grinned again, and I sighed as I removed my head covering. I quickly ran a hand through my hair in an attempt to flatten the static-y bits, and then raised my eyebrows at A.J.

"Did I get it all?"

"Nearly," he said, reaching out to tuck an errant strand behind my ear, brushing his fingers lightly along my jaw as he drew his hand back. I was sure the shiver that ran through me had nothing to do with any remaining chill I might have carried in from outside. "So," A.J. said, "fancy a butterbeer? Or firewhiskey—oh wait, you don't drink the hard stuff; that's right." He smirked.

I narrowed my eyes. "Are you mocking me?" I asked carefully.

"Not at all," he answered breezily. "I'll be right back."

But as I watched him join the end of the absurdly long line in front of the bar, I decided that was highly unlikely. After a minute or so, he'd barely moved forward two inches, and, abandoning our winter things in the booth to save our seats, I got up and joined him in line.

"Hi," I said. "Looks like you'll be here for a while, so I thought I'd keep you company."

A.J. leaned around the man in front of him to judge the distance to the bar. "Good idea," he said as he looked back at me. "So," he added, surveying me with those startlingly bright eyes.

"So . . ." I prompted when he didn't continue, trying not to squirm under his scrutiny.

"Tell me something I don't know about you," he requested.

I opened my mouth to answer, but shut it almost immediately. What I'd almost said was, 'I used to be friends with Severus Snape', but realized that was the last thing I should bring up on a first date, not to mention the last thing I wanted A.J. to know. Our friendship was a thing of the past, so there was no reason for A.J. to know that about me, right? _Then why was it the first thing that came to mind as an answer to his question_? part of my mind inquired. I deliberately ignored that part, not least because I didn't have an answer for it.

"Lily?" A.J. said, looking halfway between amused and concerned. "It's not that difficult of a question, is it?" he asked jokingly.

"No, I was just—" I stopped abruptly again, distracted this time as A.J. casually grasped my hand in his. "—t-trying to figure out what to tell you," I finished, stuttering slightly. I tried not to blush; for Merlin's sake, most of my peers had passed beyond holding hands with a boy in about second year. Clearing my throat, I said the first thing that came to mind—after the Snape thing, that is—"I hate mint."

A.J. looked amused. "Really?" He thought about it for a moment. "Actually, that _is _kind of strange. All mint? Not just peppermint or spearmint or something?"

"Nope, all mint," I confirmed.

"What do you use to brush your teeth?"

"Mint toothpaste—and I hate every minute of it," I said, wrinkling my nose.

"Well, _I _hate chocolate—not as strange, but—"

"What? 'Not as strange'—are you kidding me? That is _way _odder than hating mint! I didn't even know that was possible!"

"I didn't know hating mint was possible," A.J. countered.

We grinned at each other. "Fine—I guess we're even, then," I said.

**OOOOOOOO**

"So, what're the initials for?" I asked later, halfway through my second butterbeer.

"What initials?"

"Your name."

A.J. made a face. "I was afraid that's what you meant." He sighed. "And to think we've made it—" he checked his watch—"two hours without that coming up."

I raised an eyebrow. "That bad, huh?"

"Angus Jennings," he said in answer.

I stared at him for a moment. "No, no one names their kid Angus. You're joking."

"Wish I was," A.J. said wearily, taking a sip of his butterbeer.

"That's—Merlin, that's horrible," I said, trying not to laugh for his sake. "Where did your parents even come up with that?"

A.J. shrugged. "Dunno. I think it's a family name or something. Either that, or they consulted the 'How to ensure that your child will loath you forever' version of the baby name book."

"At least you have initials that can be used as a name without sounding strange. I mean, they could have been T. M. or something."

"And what horrible thing would that stand for?"

"Er, Trout M—"

"'Trout' is not even a name," A.J. said, laughing.

"Neither is Angus," I retorted, smiling as well.

We finished our drinks and ventured back out into the wintery day. A.J. took my hand again as we started walking slowly down the street.

"So, where to next?" he asked.

"I don't care." We passed Zonko's joke shop, and I nodded towards it. "You're a regular in there, I assume?"

"I've been inside once or twice," A.J. replied modestly.

I rolled my eyes. "Right, sure."

"Well, I'm no Marauder, that's for certain," he said.

"And that's a very good thing, trust me."

"Come on, you have to admit their pranks are usually pretty impressive."

"Did Potter put you up to this?" I demanded teasingly. "Though, yes, I have generally been amazed by the talent and planning that obviously goes into their . . . shenanigans." I paused. "Merlin, I can't believe I just admitted that. Don't tell James."

A.J. smirked. "You know, there are an awful lot of things you've told me that you don't want him to know—maybe you really aren't friends, after all."

"No, we just have an . . . interesting relationship."

**OOOOOOOO**

A.J. and I returned to Hogwarts just before dinner. In the Entrance Hall, I felt a tug on my hand as A.J. came to a halt while I tried to continue up the marble staircase. I turned back to him questioningly.

"I'm meeting some mates for dinner," he explained, dropping my hand.

"Oh, okay," I said. "Well, I'll see you later, then." I didn't move, though, wondering where we were leaving things. I mean, did this imply we were dating now? Could I ask for clarification on that? I cringed inwardly, thinking about how awkward that would sound. Focusing back on A.J., I saw that he was looking at me oddly, similar to that appraising look he'd given me in the Three Broomsticks. "Er, thanks for—" I started, just to break the uncomfortable—well, uncomfortable for me, anyway—silence.

"Can I kiss you?" A.J. interrupted unexpectedly.

My heart suddenly felt like it was lodged in my throat, while my stomach had fallen to somewhere in the region of my feet. "W-what?" I stuttered.

"You heard me," A.J. said, looking at me steadily with a slight smile on his lips.

"I'm a rubbish kisser," I blurted out. "If that changes your mind."

"It doesn't. First, because there's no way that could be even remotely true, and second, because I've been wanting to kiss you all day."

"Oh," was all I could think to say to that. And, as it turned out, it was all I had time to say, because next second, A.J. had cupped one hand on my cheek, placed the other on my waist, and pressed his lips to mine.

I had no idea what to do with my lips or tongue, so I just sort of mirrored A.J.'s movements. And when we broke apart, I realized I hadn't done anything with my hands, just left them hanging stupidly at my sides. But A.J. just grinned at me, murmured, "Knew you wouldn't be rubbish," and turned into the Great Hall.

I'm not sure how long I stood there, staring after him, but I'm sure it was long enough to make me look like an idiot. When I finally remembered how to walk, I was glad to discover that the Entrance Hall was empty, meaning no one had witnessed the kiss or my embarrassing reaction. Starting up the stairs to the second floor, I was still distracted enough by recent events to miss the person emerging from behind a tapestry as I reached the landing. He didn't miss me, however.

"So, how was it, Evans?" Potter asked, falling into step beside me.

I jumped slightly at his sudden appearance. "Where the hell did you come from?"

"Back there," he answered, gesturing vaguely behind him.

I raised an eyebrow. "You weren't . . . waiting for me, or something creepy like that, were you?"

James rolled his eyes. "Yes, Evans, I like to stalk you in my free time. No, it was completely coincidental, I assure you. So?"

"What? Oh, my date. Um, it was . . . good."

Potter shot me an exasperated look. "Come on, that's all I get? No details?"

"Well, I—"

"We are friends, after all," Potter added.

"So you keep reminding me," I said dryly.

"And I don't think I should have to," he said, pretending to be hurt.

"Aw, come on, Potter, you know I'm joking, right?" I said, copying his tone from earlier that week.

James grinned at me. "Well played, Evans. However, you're still avoiding the question. From what you've said, I'm left to interpret that either the date was really bad, and you're just lying to cover it up, or it was really _really _good, and you just don't want to share."

I tried not to smile, but failed miserably.

"Aha! So, it's the second, then." He looked at me expectantly as we cleared the landing on the seventh floor and started for the Fat Lady's portrait.

I shook my head. "Honestly, I don't know why you want to know so badly," I paused to give the password—'Mandrakes'—to the Fat Lady. "I mean, you're not a girl—"

"Always the observant one, aren't you?"

"—but you're pestering me worse than Mary."

Potter looked like he was going to say something, but we had entered the common room by this point, and Mary—as if on cue—accosted me for a play-by-play of my date with A.J. As we started for the dormitory stairs, Potter called after me, "Wait, how come she gets to know, and I don't?"

I just smirked at him over my shoulder and continued to follow Mary up the stairs.

**OOOOOOOO**

The next day, I didn't really see A.J. at all, which I told myself was because I had a lot of homework to catch up on, having done none of it the day before. In reality, however, it was because I was sort of avoiding him. Okay, not sort of—completely avoiding him. The truth was, I didn't have any idea how I was supposed to act around him now. I mean, was he my boyfriend? Not that an answer to that question would help me much, either, because I'd never had a boyfriend and had no idea how to behave with one. Of course, Mary had assured me that we were, in fact, dating, and while I had to agree with her that A.J.'s implication of more dates and the kiss at the end of our first certainly pointed in that direction, I also knew that was a dangerous thing to just assume. What we needed was to have 'the talk', where we laid everything out and defined our relationship. In other words, hang on while I Avada Kedavra myself. I hated talking about feelings and things; I'd much rather just naturally come to a mutual, silent agreement about where we stood. But I knew that was just asking for disaster.

So, here I was, in the library avoiding the problem and working (attempting to, at least) on a Felix Felicis essay for Slughorn and polishing up my Patronus essay for Galbraithe. And wondering if I'd ever stop being so pathetic about everything.

...

A.J. finally cornered me in the Entrance Hall after breakfast on Monday—props to him for being able to wait that long, I thought.

"You're avoiding me," he stated bluntly, but he looked more amused by the fact than angry. Though I honestly wasn't sure which was worse.

"Er," I answered intelligently. How do you answer that kind of question, anyway?

"Why?"

"Well, you know," I started vaguely. A.J. just raised an eyebrow, and I sighed. "I—I just . . . didn't know whether—Are we dating?"

A.J. smirked. "I think that's the general idea, yes. At least, that was the motivation behind my asking you out—I thought it seemed logical enough, yeah?"

He was teasing me, and I told him as much. "And I don't appreciate it; I get enough of that from Potter."

"James," A.J. corrected, eyes shining with amusement.

"Oh, shut up," I muttered. "Well, anyway—good to know. With the dating thing, I mean." I sighed in frustration as A.J. laughed. "Okay, I know—I'm pathetic; I honestly don't know why you want to date me."

"That's why."

"Because I'm pathetic?" I asked skeptically.

"No, because I find your fumbling lack of experience endearing."

"Oh, now you're just patronizing me."

A.J. laughed again and prevented any further complaints on my part by kissing me—in a manner rather inappropriate for our current location, I might add. But hey, I wasn't going to object, although part of me knew I certainly didn't want to be caught in such a position by just anyone, especially not—

"Careful, Evans, or I might have to accuse you of hypocrisy," Potter commented all-too-pleasantly from my right.

A.J. and I broke apart, my face turning far redder than my hair while A.J., of course, looked completely unfazed. Prick. "Hey James," he greeted causally.

"Rookie," James replied, nodding at his Seeker. "Off to Defense, Evans? I'll walk with you—unless you've got some work to finish up first," he added with a smirk.

_He's enjoying this far too much for his own good_, I thought resentfully. Aloud, I said, "No, I'm—um—ready."

So the three of us—A.J. was on his way to Charms, and so had to pass by our DADA classroom anyway—started for the marble staircase, A.J. holding my right hand and James on my left—er, not holding my hand, though. I knew I shouldn't have felt as awkward as I did—after all, who cared if Potter had caught us kissing? We were dating, weren't we? (He didn't have to know I'd only just confirmed that myself.) Snogging was allowed. But his comment about hypocrisy was, unfortunately, right. It had been a very similar scene at the beginning of the year with Potter and Chloe where I'd made some comment about their amorous display being nausea-inducing.

I didn't have long to worry about that, however, because something—or rather, some_one_—arrived to make the situation worse: Severus.

He came towards us from the opposite direction—I had no idea why, because he had Defense now as well—and I could tell that James and I spotted him at the exact same moment. A.J. had been complaining about all the work they'd gotten from Flitwick over the weekend, and didn't notice as James's and my attention abruptly shifted to the pale, dark-haired boy nearing us.

Caught between the urge to look away and wondering what Sev's reaction would be to my current companions, I was still staring at him when Sev's eyes suddenly jumped to mine. I watched as a volley of emotions flashed across his face while his gaze flicked to James beside me and then to A.J.'s and my clasped hands. But he soon turned his eyes forward once more, and I breathed a small sigh of relief as we passed him.

Sometime during this brief exchange, A.J. must have noticed that he'd lost his audience, because he commented quietly, "Odd bloke, that Snape is, don't you think? Kind of creepy—but he is in Slytherin, so that's not too surprising."

Obviously, he'd assumed James and I had stopped paying attention to him because we'd been thinking the same thing, so I muttered a non-committal, "Mhmm." I heard Potter snort almost inaudibly beside me, and I glanced up to find him frowning at me. I shook my head slightly, and his frown only deepened as he glanced away.

A.J. and I parted at my classroom, pausing for a quick kiss and wishes for the other to have a good class—Potter just strode straight into the room. As A.J. started down the corridor, I hurried after James. He looked up as I sat beside him, an almost angry expression in his eyes.

"So, haven't told him about Snape yet?"

"We've barely been dating a day—it hasn't exactly come up!" I protested.

"Okay, so you're planning on telling him eventually." It wasn't a question.

I hesitated. I vaguely registered Mary, Sirius, Peter and Remus entering the classroom—they took one look at James's and my expressions and wisely sat down behind us without comment.

"Well?" James prompted sharply.

"I'm not—" I started, but was forced to fall silent as Galbraithe entered the room.

"Good morning," she said, and a few students repeated the greeting back to her. Unfazed by the class's less-than-enthusiastic response, she continued, "As I told you last week, today's lesson will solely comprise practicing the Patronus charm. So pair up, and get to it—I'll collect your essays at the end of class."

Glad for the short instructions, I turned to Potter again as each of us pulled out our wands.

"So, you two are pairing off, then?" Sirius asked with mixed sarcasm and amusement.

"I'm not going to purposely bring it up, since Sev and I aren't even friends anymore, if that's what you're asking," I said, continuing my conversation with James. Both of us ignored Sirius, who turned with a little huff to partner Mary.

"I wasn't asking anything," Potter replied. "I was assuming you're going to tell him, because that's what you should do!"

"Oh, is it? Really? And you're the expert on these things, are you? Because I was actually thinking there's no point in complicating things unnecessarily, which is exactly what telling A.J. about Sev would do!"

"Well, I hate to break it to you, Evans, but sometimes relationships are complicated! That's sort of the point, actually."

"Why do you even care?" I asked.

But before Potter could answer, Galbraithe called from the front of the room, "Mr. Potter, Miss Evans—less talking and more wandwork, please!"

"I'm sure you've already practiced doing a Patronus, haven't you?" Potter asked me, somewhat scathingly.

"Right, go ahead and mock me—not like you haven't done the exact same thing," I shot back.

We both turned haughtily away and declared determinedly in unison, "_Expecto Patronum_!"

I honestly didn't know what happy memory I could have been drawing on at the moment, but perhaps I produced a Patronus on sheer will-power, fueled by my anger at Potter. Anger which quickly faded, to be replaced by shock, when I saw the bright white forms that had burst out of our wands.

Mine was a doe, as I'd known, but standing gracefully beside it, bowing its antlered head slightly, was a silvery stag.

James and I looked at each other, our earlier argument suddenly forgotten. I expected him to smirk and make some sly comment, but all he said was, "Maybe you shouldn't tell A.J. about this, either."

We were mostly silent for the remainder of the lesson, and it was only as I packed up my bag to leave that I noticed Sev had never showed.

**

* * *

A/N: So, Deathly Hallows. On the whole, I liked it. I thought they did the best job with this book of keeping to the story and fitting in all the necessary parts (except explaining where the bit of Sirius's mirror came from….). I always have to laugh a little when they try to fit like seven different explanations into one small scene. Prime example: the Seven Potters scene. Enter Bill: "Oh hi, Harry, I'm Bill Weasley—I haven't even been mentioned yet, but you're all coming to my wedding so…..yeah. And, p.s. I was attacked by Greyback in that scene they cut from the last movie so they could blow up the Burrow instead. Because that was much better." Lupin: "Blah blah joke about rare steaks." Tonks: "Haha, husband (oh yeah, p.s. we're married) you're so funny. Oh, and guess what Harry? We're going to have—"**

**Moody: "Okay, let's go." (Aka, Tonks is totes preggers.) So there you go, four major plot points in about ten seconds.**

**Anyway, what else? Oh, the scene with Harry and Hermione dancing in the tent. What? I mean, I guess it was supposed to be a cute moment, but I mostly just laughed the whole time b/c Dan's dancing was HILARIOUS! And I'm pretty sure Harry would never do that. And they totally looked like they were going to kiss at the end…..but whatever, I guess.**

**Also, speaking of kissing, how about that NAKED KISS during the horcrux/locket scene? Again, what? Totally unnecessary. Thanks for making me feel violated, WB.**

**But yeah, other than that I liked it. The highlights for me were the scene in the Ministry and the Malfoy Manor scene with Hermione being tortured (Emma had a great performance here, I thought—her screaming was intense!) Plus, two-and-a-half hours went by really quickly! Can't believe I have to wait another six months now…no, wait, more like eight, isn't it? Sigh.**


	17. Your Mistake

**A/N: Again, so many reviews! Love it! Thanks to: PotterAddict264, Don't Forget Us, Book-Mania-Girl520, skazmi, jak23, .forever2116, , marinewife08, JanistheGiant, Cassie Weasley, Aen 06, fitBrit1031, teteeee, i3fiction-novels, EchoNightFall22, Kylee, Katara Watertribe, existence555, DarlingILoveYou, Evisawesome, Darth Riven, TechnoGlitter ExWhimsicalFairy, MaryandMerlin, Helli, and MissArtemisFowl!**

**Also, to my fellow Americanites—hope you all had lovely Thanksgivings and ate lots of yummy food!**

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Chapter 16:** **Your Mistake**

"Ugh, I hate rounds!" I declared the next evening in the library. Madame Pince, the young but already crotchety librarian, shot me a scandalized look for my outburst. "Sorry," I said to her, then lowered my voice. "They're so boring."

"Then don't go," A.J. suggested. We'd been studying in the library for the past two hours, or trying to at least. And before your mind goes where I know it will, no, we were _not _snogging—I refused to be one of _those _couples. The reason we'd accomplished little in the way of homework was mostly A.J.'s fault. He'd work for about two minutes, then throw down his quill in frustration, claiming that he couldn't concentrate. I would argue that he couldn't make that claim, because he hadn't even tried to focus, he would complain that I was too swotty for my own good (teasingly, of course), I would demand that he apologize (he would) and we'd go back to working for a bit before the cycle started all over again.

These frequent interruptions weren't the only thing that was preventing me from attaining my usual work ethic. I kept catching myself staring at A.J. (when he wasn't looking), watching the way a tiny crease appeared between his eyes for those brief moments when he _was _concentrating, and the way the muscles of his forearm would tense and stretch as he wrote . . .

Like I said, we hadn't gotten much done.

"I can't skip them—McGonagall would find out; you know she would. Plus, Remus won't be there, so I'd feel even more guilty—"

"Why won't Lupin be there?" A.J. interrupted.

_Shit! He doesn't know about Remus being a werewolf! God, Lily, why are you such an idiot?_ "Er, he's—ah . . .sick," I invented lamely, suddenly appreciating the convincing, though flippant, way James had always been able to make excuses for his friend.

A.J. either didn't notice my hesitation, or chose to ignore it. "Oh, well then—do you want me to come with you? Merlin knows I won't get anything done without you here to nag me."

"You haven't gotten anything done _with _me here, either," I pointed out, putting my books away.

A.J. grinned. "True. So?"

"No, that's all right—I don't mind doing them myself. Besides, I have to get away from you somehow so _I _can get some work done later!"

"What, are you planning on locking yourself in a room whose location will remain unknown to me after rounds?"

"Exactly," I said with a wink, standing and swinging my bag over my shoulder.

"Too bad," A.J. said with a fake sigh. "I could have carried your bag up for you otherwise."

I hesitated, and finally let my bag slide off my shoulder again. "Okay, but I _will _leave again if you start distracting me," I warned.

"See you in the common room," A.J. said, ignoring my warning.

I leaned in to kiss him on the cheek. "Bye."

I started along the second floor corridor, knowing it was still too early for people to hit up the usual snogging spots on the upper floors. Which is all the excitement we usually encountered on rounds—I'd much rather have actual trouble-making, trust me, because there is nothing more awkward or embarrassing than first, walking in on a snogging couple and, instead of being able to simply walk quickly away, having to actually break them up and dole out punishment. No wonder prefects were never popular.

Passing my Arithmancy classroom, I glared fiercely at it. That was one subject I still had left to tackle tonight. Maybe I could tell Professor Epsilon I was having relationship problems, and that's why I hadn't done my homework. After all, it was half true—A.J. was the reason I wasn't getting anything done—and as with most of our male professors, I was sure Epsilon would be more likely to accept that as an excuse, not wanting to deal with teenage girl issues. As I was contemplating whether it was feasible to assume he'd believe me, I turned a corner to find James halfway down the next corridor, eyes trained on an ancient-looking bit of parchment. He looked up as I approached him, grinning, and shoved the paper into the pocket of his robes.

"What was that?" I asked, nodding at the place the parchment had just disappeared into.

"Nothing," James replied.

I highly doubted that. But if he didn't want to tell me, I knew there was no way I could get it out of him. "Well, what are you doing here, then?" I asked instead.

"Wondering if you'd like some company, seeing as your usual partner in crime is currently shacking up." Potter grinned at his own cleverness.

I rolled my eyes at the double meaning. "So, were you waiting for me or something?" I asked, ignoring his comment.

James sighed tiredly. "Evans, what have I said about the stalking thing?"

"Well, then, how did you know I'd be coming by here?" I retorted, figuring I had him with that one. Not that I was sure why I was trying to make him admit he was stalking me.

"I knew you'd gone to the library, so I was on my way down to find you."

_Oh. Well, that makes sense—damn. _"How'd you know I was in the library?" I asked a moment later, remembering that he hadn't been in the common room when I'd left.

"You're always in the library," Potter answered simply.

_Wish I hadn't asked._

"So, was that a yes to wanting company, then?" Potter continued pleasantly.

"I suppose," I said, pretending to sound resigned, but secretly glad to have him there—he'd undoubtedly make rounds more interesting and less torturous than doing them myself. I immediately felt a little guilty as well; I hadn't forgotten that I'd turned down this exact offer from A.J. not ten minutes ago.

More to distract myself from my conscience than anything, I said, "Don't tell me you're done with all your homework already?"  
"Okay, I won't," James replied easily.

I stopped. "Wait, are you saying you _are _done?"

He smirked at me. "Well, which is it: do you want me to tell you or not?"

I huffed in annoyance and started walking again. "How do you always do that?"

"I offered to tutor you, remember."

I rolled my eyes. "And I'm still passing on that."

"Well, I'm sure you're currently behind on work for entirely different reasons," Potter said. Shooting me a crooked grin, he added, "I may not have known for sure that you were in the library, but I _did _hear A.J. tell his mates he was going down there. And I know how books turn you on, so . . ."

"Actually, we were _studying_, I'll have you know," I said, but my traitorous cheeks burned at Potter's suggestive tone.

"Sure you were."

"Anyway," I said pointedly, "I'm not discussing that with you."

"Okay," James said, unfazed. After a moment of silence, he added, almost musingly, "So, your Patronus is a doe, huh?"

I sighed. "Would you stop bringing that up?"

Potter raised his eyebrows. "That's the first time I've said anything about it. It only happened yesterday, after all."

"Oh," I said, blushing again. I guess I'd been thinking about it so much it had only seemed like Potter had brought it up before. "Well, go ahead, get your teasing out of the way, then."

"I wasn't going to tease you," he protested. "I was just going to say the fact that our Patronuses compliment each other is—"

"Disturbing," I said, nodding.

"Well, I was going to say 'interesting', but—"

"You would think it's interesting," I muttered. "Whereas I, on the other hand, find the fact that a reflection of my inner self somehow matches yours incredibly unsettling."

James just laughed. "I always told you we were more alike than you thought."

"You've never told me that," I retorted.

"Well, I'm telling you now, then. And you see how I'm _not _making any comments about . . . certain other things that it could suggest? Proud of me?"

"Incredibly," I said sardonically. But I had, actually, noticed the difference between this exchange and what it would have looked like if the Patronus incident had occurred, say, a year ago. That was part of what had occupied my mind since I'd seen James's stag beside my doe. I cringed to think what Marlene, Dorcas, or even Mary would have said: undoubtedly, something about how this proved that James and I were 'meant to be together' or some such rot. Which in turn had made me incredibly grateful I was currently dating A.J., because it meant that, though all three of them _had _seen our matching Patronuses, none of them had commented on it.

"All right—new topic again?"

"Please."

"Right . . . well, we've been friends for, what, over two months now? High time I found out more about you, wouldn't you say?"

"I guess," I agreed warily.

"What do your parents do?"

I breathed a little sigh of relief. That seemed like a fairly safe question. "My dad works in insurance—that's boring even in the Muggle world, so I won't bother explaining it to you—and my mum teaches kindergarten—uh, that's the first year of Muggle school, when you're five."

James raised an eyebrow. "What can you possibly teach to five-year-olds?"

"Er, not much," I admitted. "She's basically just a glorified babysitter."

James laughed. "And you don't have any other siblings besides the charming Petunia?"

"No, unfortunately." I cocked my head to the side slightly. "Or perhaps fortunately, because then that's less people who hate me."

He didn't laugh at that.

Feeling suddenly uncomfortable, I quickly added, "So, what about you? You're an only child, right?"

James nodded. "Yeah. And my mum used to work as a reporter for the Daily Prophet, but she quit when I was born and hasn't gone back since."

"And your dad?"

"He worked at the Ministry—Department of International Magical Cooperation—but he died when I was ten." He cracked a wry smile. "So I guess you could say he's retired now, too."

Leave it to Potter to be able to joke about his dead father. "Merlin, Potter, I'm sorry."

"No, don't worry about it—I asked you about your family, fully expecting you to ask about mine in return. Besides, it was six years ago, so I'm—well, not over it, because I don't think I'll ever be _over _it, but I'm all right." He smiled again.

I smiled back, suddenly feeling . . . well, something towards him. Sympathy, I guess. Which was quite a new emotion where Potter was concerned.

"Should we move on to favorite colors?" James suggested. "That seems fairly neutral, don't you think? Mine's green."

"Well, objectively, I like the color orange," I said after a moment's contemplation. "But I look hideous in orange, so as far as my favorite color to _wear_, I'd have to say either blue or purple."

"Not green?" Potter prompted.

"No, because I think it's cliché to dress to match your eyes."

"Right, of course. Honestly, Evans, only you could make a simple question like 'what's your favorite color' so complicated."

I smiled slightly. "Anyway, it's my turn, since you've already answered the color question." I thought for a moment. "Oh, I know—what was your first detention? And why?" "That's two questions."

"Just shut up and answer, Potter."

"Awfully contradictory request, that, isn't it?" When I glared at him, he grinned and continued, "Fine—second week of school, Sirius and I let off dungbombs in Transfiguration, and McGonagall made us organize her office as punishment. Under her strict supervision, of course."

"I remember that—the dungbombs thing. God, that stunk. And I can't believe you provoked McGonagall, of all the teachers."

"Well, to be fair, we didn't really know she was such a hard ass at that point in our young lives. Or that she was so messy—it took us two hours just to clean out her desk."

"Yeah, I guess that is a little odd. From her personality, I'd have expected her to be obsessively organized."

"Like you," Potter said with a smirk.

I nodded in agreement. "I know, it's a little disturbing."

"The first step's admitting you have a problem."

"Right. Anyway, what is your—"

"Hey, now, it's my turn, remember? Okay, your first detention."

"I've never had one," I said, grimacing in anticipation of his reaction.

James stopped walking abruptly. Staring at me with mingled shock and horror, he whispered, "What?"

I hit his arm. "Oh, stop acting so scandalized. It's not a _bad _thing—you're not supposed to get them; that's why they call it detention."

"Yes but—okay, Evans, that is my new mission for the rest of the year."

I raised an eyebrow. "To get me in detention?"

Potter nodded.

"Good luck."

"Oh, I'm very good at it," he said with a smirk.

_That's true. Maybe I should be worried._ But aloud I said, "I'm not worried," refusing to admit otherwise to Potter. "First time on a broomstick," I continued.

"When I was two—I rode in front of my dad, just around our garden. Mum was tweaking out the entire time even so," he said with a small smile at the memory.

"And you've been hooked ever since?"

"Something like that. First time you were drunk?"

"You don't want to know about my first ride on a broomstick?" I joked.

"No, I was there for that—I still remember," he said. "You were bloody awful."

"I would be offended, if it weren't so painfully true," I said with a sigh. "And I've never been drunk, to answer your question."

"No wonder we haven't been friends until now. Well, add it to the list."

"What list?"

"The list of things I'm going to help you accomplish by the end of the year."

"The other being getting detention?" I asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"Yes. And flying on a broom. Properly."

"Not going to happen, Potter."

"We'll see."

"First kiss," I fired at him, changing the subject.

Potter grinned at me. "Getting into the good stuff, eh? Hmm, let me think—I've got to go so far back . . ."

I hit him again. "Shut up, no you don't. I know you're not as much of a player as you'd like everyone to think."

"You know that, do you? What, been keeping tabs on all my snogs?"

"Gross—of course not. You're really bad at answering questions, you know."

"Katerina Haven," he said.

I frowned, trying to picture her. "Wait, didn't she graduate last year?"

"Yep."

"You're first snog was with someone _two years _older than you?"

"Impressed?"

"I don't know," I muttered.

Potter laughed. "It was great, though, because she knew exactly what she was doing, I mean her—"

"Okay," I interrupted hurriedly. "I just asked who your first kiss was—I don't need a description."

"All right—your turn. Even though Rookie's your first boyfriend, I know he can't be the first bloke you've kissed."

"What, been keeping tabs on my snogs, Potter?" I said, copying him, though he was right—even though I'd freaked out a little holding hands with A.J., my first kiss hadn't been the one at the end of our date. I know, that doesn't really make sense, but I'm just weird like that.

He grinned. "Clearly not—otherwise I wouldn't have to ask who your first kiss was, would I?"

I wrinkled my nose. "I'm not telling you."

"You have to."

"No, I don't."

"Yes, you do—that's how this game works, Evans."

I sighed. "Okay, fine. But you have to promise not to tease."

"I can't promise anything."

I sighed again. "I can't believe I'm about to tell you this," I muttered, almost to myself. "It was Michael Smet."

James looked at me with almost as much horror as when I'd admitted I'd never had detention. "No it wasn't," he said at once.

"What do you—yes it was! I think _I _would know, Potter."

"You snogged _Michael Smet_?"

"We didn't snog, per say—it was more of a peck on the lips. And it wasn't even a real kiss—I somehow let Mary drag me into playing spin the bottle in third year."

"Sorry I missed that," Potter said, and winced when I gave him a look. "No, that's not how I meant it—honest. I just meant . . . well, I don't know what I meant. You distracted me with this Michael Smet business. Well, since spin the bottle doesn't really count, who was your second kiss?"

"A.J."

"What? You kissed Smet and then you didn't kiss anyone else for three years?"

"Well, would you?" I asked dryly. "I was slightly traumatized."

Potter smirked at me. "Good point. Yeah, after him, I imagine anyone would seem like a fabulous kisser. Although, on further reflection, I suppose Smet isn't too horrible. To be honest, I was a little afraid at first that you were going to say Snape," he said jokingly.

I came to a dead stop so quickly Potter took a few more steps before realizing I was no longer beside him. As he turned, the half-formed smirk on his face froze when he caught sight of my expression.

"I—sorry, Evans, I didn't—it was just a joke—" he stuttered.

"Right, because we're such good friends you think we can joke about that?" I demanded scornfully. "More to the point, why does everything have to be a joke with you? Did it ever cross your mind that I'll never think what you did to him was funny?"

"It wasn't my fault he said all that stuff to you," Potter retorted angrily.

"That's not—I didn't say that!"

"Yeah, but that's why you're mad. That's what you yelled at me about at the end of last year. You never said a thing about what I'd done to him, all you wanted to do was blame me for the fact that you two were no longer friends."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I mean, yes, I had said those things to Potter last year, but that's not what we were talking about now! I was too angry to say anything, so I just turned on my heel and started off back down the corridor.

James hurried after me, catching my wrist and forcing me to face him again. "You can't just walk away, Lily—we have to talk about this." Fury pounding through me, I barely noticed that he'd called me by my first name. "If we're going to be friends—"

"Maybe we're not. Maybe we can't be."

Silence. Both of us stared at each other for several minutes and, miraculously, I found I wasn't angry anymore. Sighing, I walked over and sat down against one wall of the corridor. "I know it wasn't your fault," I said quietly.

"I know," James replied, sliding down to sit beside me. "And I know you don't think any of it was funny—I didn't mean to give you the impression that I did. I shouldn't have said—well, anyway, I . . ." he trailed off.

"You what?"

"It was stupid, some of the stuff I did to Snape. But not all of it."

I thought about that for a moment, and decided I could live with it. "Okay."

"Okay . . ." he repeated, confused.

"Okay, that's acceptable as an—well, apology isn't really the right word—an explanation."

James looked at me warily. "It is?"

"Yes—what?"

"It's just—you've never become . . . un-angry so quickly. It usually takes a week, at least," he said with a small smirk.

"Well, I'm trying to work on that. And I really didn't mean all that stuff I said to you last year. Or just now."

"Right. And since we're on the subject of apologies, I'm sorry for yesterday during Defense—I didn't really get to apologize properly because I was distracted by our Patronuses." His smirk widened. "But I shouldn't have told you what to do—"

"Good to see you've finally learned that."

Potter laughed. "Anyway, I guess I was just . . . jealous," he said, his smile fading. "That A.J.—well, he doesn't ever have to know about Snape, whereas I . . . it's always going to be this thing between you and I. And I'm not saying it's your fault, or Snape's—if anything, it's mine—but—"

"Did you not listen to a thing I said?" I interrupted, a little exasperated. "I just got done telling you it's not your fault. All of it . . . it happened, and yeah, it wasn't exactly rainbows and butterflies, but I think we can move past it. I mean, I think I can move past it."

James was quiet for a moment. "So . . . friends?"

"Friends," I agreed.

"Good. I didn't—" But whatever he had been about to say was cut off by a voice that issued from somewhere around James's middle.

"Prongs!"

We both jumped. "What the hell was that?" I asked.

"Sirius," James said cryptically, and I watched with increasing confusion that quickly turned to astonishment as he pulled a mirror out of his pocket which, instead of being reflective of the area around it, showed Sirius's face. "What, Padfoot?" James asked, sounding annoyed.

Sirius glared up at him. "What do you mean 'what'? Where in the bloody hell are you? We're about to go down to the—"

"Okay, I'll be right there," James cut in hurriedly with a brief glance at me. Sirius's face disappeared and James stowed the mirror in his pocket again. "Sorry Evans," he said, turning to me, "I forgot that I've got to—well, I have somewhere I've got to be."

"What was that mirror thing?"

"Sirius and I invented them so we could talk to each other when we were in separate detentions," James explained, smiling.

I raised an eyebrow. "Of course," I said sarcastically, though I was slightly impressed. "And where exactly are you going?"

"Can't tell you," Potter said with a grin.

I rolled my eyes. "I could follow you," I threatened.

"But you won't," Potter countered confidently.

"Fine, go on—get out of here," I said resignedly.

With a last grin, James disappeared around the end of the corridor. I set off in the opposite direction, once again facing the boring prospect of rounds alone. _Well, I was right about one thing_, I mused, _Potter certainly did make it interesting while he was here_. I was still surprised at myself for backing down so quickly earlier. Potter was right—I did usually need a few days to cool off after we had a big fight. Especially when it concerned Sev, who'd always been a touchy and taboo subject with James and I. But somehow, being friends with James changed that. He was right about that, too—it was something we had to deal with if we wanted to get along.

Sure, I was still a little angry with Potter for trying to make a joke about it, but that _was _basically how he dealt with everything. Which was another thing I'd have to accept if I wanted to be his friend._ But I think I can handle that, though._

Still in a contemplative mood by the time ten o'clock rolled around, I didn't fancy returning to the common room to do homework. Knowing A.J. would probably be mad at me for ditching him, but also figuring he seemed to be the kind of person who was quick to forgive, I started down into the Entrance Hall. I grabbed a spare cloak out of a cupboard near the stairs I'd discovered a couple years ago. I had no idea what its purpose was, except to service students struck with a sudden fancy to wander outside on a winter night. Normally, with my hatred of the cold, this wouldn't include me, but tonight was an exception, for some reason.

Crossing to the oak front doors, I smile wryly to myself. Curfew had begun an hour ago, and while I was permitted to be out late for rounds, anything after that was at my own risk. _Maybe I'll get that first detention without Potter's help after all._

My feet led me absently towards the lake, and I stood for a minute admiring the full moon reflected in the black water. Starting off around the edge of the lake, my thoughts wandered to Remus, knowing that he was even now in the Shrieking Shack, fully transformed. I wondered again how he could stand that every month—not that he really had a choice, of course. But it just seemed so awful . . .

Caught up as I was with thoughts of werewolves, it was a moment before I realized the howling I was hearing was real, and not just conjured by my over-active imagination. When it finally registered in my ears, I spun quickly, heart hammering, and what I saw nearly made me faint with fear.

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A/N: It's been a while since I had a tried and true cliffhanger in this story….so there you go! (PotterAddict264—hope this satisfies your request for a pick up in the pace—I was amused when I read your review, b/c one of the things you suggested is definitely going to happen in the next chapter!)**

**Also, interesting side note: I actually went to high school with someone named Michael Smet—nice kid, and I didn't mean to hate on him by using his name for such an unfortunate person as Lily's less-than-pleasant first kiss, but I just have such a hard time coming up with names that sometime I settle for using ones of people I used to know.**

**Oh, and no hard feelings (I hope!) if any of you are/know someone who is a kindergarten teacher.**


	18. Save Me

**A/N: As always, thanks to my scrumptious reviewers (hmm, that rather makes it sound like I want to eat you….er, don't worry—not the case): PkmnLuver292, Zippy4567Rainbow8275, ZoneSystems, Ami Ukiyo, miss larien, allaray, Emotionsonhold, Aen 06, existence555, Silver Scorpion, Kiley 1 09, EchoNightFall22, marinewife08, theycallherkaush, SucksRoyalHippogriff (have I mentioned how much I love your username? I think so. But seriously, awesome), i3fiction-novels, BrokenFaerie16, Evisawesome, MaryandMerlin, Elless, DarlingILoveYou, and Cassie Weasley!**

**And just because you're all incredibly amazing, I've posted this chapter early! Partially per Aen 06's request (you're welcome!), and partially because I was planning on making this chapter longer, but then it just got too long, and…well, I'll explain more at the end. For now, on with chapter 17!**

**And, just to remind you where we left off:**

_Caught up as I was with thoughts of werewolves, it was a moment before I realized the howling I was hearing was real, and not just conjured by my over-active imagination. When it finally registered in my ears, I spun quickly, heart hammering, and what I saw nearly made me faint with fear._

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Chapter 17:** **Save Me**

A gigantic wolf was rushing towards me, and I knew that I wouldn't have a chance to run or hide. I was going to be attacked by a werewolf. As the thought ran through my head, I let out a panicky laugh at the absurdity of it.

Though I expected it to simply keep running until it hit me full force, the werewolf slowed as it approached, eventually coming to a stop a few feet from me. It was growling low in its throat, and its bright eyes gleamed predatorily in the darkness.

"Remus?" I whispered, as though I might somehow be able to summon his human side to save myself. But the werewolf's haunches tightened, preparing it to leap at me. I closed my eyes, waiting for the feeling of teeth in my flesh, but it never came. Instead, I was hit, not from the front, as I was expecting, but from the side, knocked to the ground by something equally huge and hairy. I felt a sharp pain in my shoulder, and opening my eyes, I thought for one wild moment that it was another werewolf, but closer inspection revealed my savior to be a large black dog. It was currently crouched in front of me protectively, snarling and snapping at the werewolf, who had landed where I had just been, skidding to a halt and whirling around when it realized its prey had been knocked out of its path.

Seconds later, another animal joined the fray, this one standing out brilliantly against the night. It was a white stag, and instantly I knew; it was a perfect recreation of his Patronus. James. Prongs. My mind was trying furiously to wrap itself around the situation, and as it did, I realized something else—Padfoot . . . so the dog must be Sirius.

Just then, the dog and the stag—Sirius and James, I had to remind myself—lunged at the werewolf simultaneously, almost as though they'd planned it. I watched as the werewolf stumbled backwards to avoid being struck by the dog's paws or gorged by the stag's antlers. Regaining its footing, it jumped back at the dog, and I closed my eyes as its jaws locked around one of the dog's legs. Hearing a howl of pain, I opened them again in a panic only to see that it was the werewolf, not Sirius, who had cried out as the stag kicked it back with its hooves. Together, James and Sirius managed to drive the werewolf further towards the Forbidden Forest until finally, with a frustrated howl, it took flight into the woods.

Sirius and James stared after it for a moment, both breathing hard, before loping back over to me. I scrambled to my feet as they approached, suddenly wondering where the fourth member of their group was—Wormtail . . . what sort of animal—

I jumped slightly as I saw something moving in the grass. Looking down, I found the answer to my question: a brown rat, almost invisible against the dark grass, was scurrying around the feet of the dog and the stag, emitting little frightened squeaks.

I raised my eyes again to the others, still in their animal forms, and my gaze was immediately drawn to James. He looked back at me, a fierceness in his eyes that was surprising in such a gentle animal, and I found myself thinking how noble and . . . well, beautiful he was like this. I nearly laughed again, wondering where my mind was coming up with such thoughts. _Shock, probably_, I thought absently. Still, I couldn't stop myself from raising a hand towards the stag, as though to rest it on its soft nose. But before I got close enough to do so, it pulled its head back out of reach and started abruptly in the direction of the castle.

I heard a soft growling, and my heart stopped for a moment before I realized it was just Sirius—I'd nearly forgotten he was there. He came up to me now and barked once. I took that as a signal that I was supposed to follow James, and I did. We moved across the grounds in relative silence, me battling nervous giggles for the third time that night as I thought how odd we must look. But I understood why James, Sirius, and Peter weren't changing back yet—they might need to defend me again.

Shivering at the thought, I concentrated on the distant lights of the castle, focusing on the safety they promised. As though to reassure me, Sirius pressed his warm head into my palm briefly, and I reflexively bushed my hand over the fur there. Looking ahead again at James, I wished he would turn around, glance back—anything. I had a feeling he was angry, though I didn't know why.

A few yards from the oak front doors, we came to a halt and James, Sirius, and Peter returned to their natural forms. It was very quick—one minute a dog, stag, and rat stood before me, the next, all three were human again. "Are you all right?" Sirius asked immediately.

I suddenly found I couldn't meet any of their eyes. Looking down, I said quietly, "Yes. I—I wasn't—"

But before I could say another word, James grabbed my upper arm and dragged me roughly towards the castle. Too shocked by his harshness to say anything, I followed silently, Peter and Sirius hurrying along beside us. When we reached the brightness of the Entrance Hall, James started for the door on the right of the marble staircase that led to the dungeons.

"Where the hell are you going?" Sirius demanded.

James didn't answer.

"Prongs—" Peter started tentatively.

"Shut up, Wormtail," James snapped, turning into an empty room and flicking his wand to light the torches on the wall.

"All right, now, that's just—" Sirius started angrily.

But James slammed the door behind him and yanked me around to face him. "What the hell is wrong with you?" he demanded harshly.

Completely stunned by his outburst, I just stood there.

"What—why were you—how did you—" he said, so angry that he couldn't form a complete sentence.

My shock slowly turning to annoyance—after all, I was the one who'd almost been killed by a werewolf—I said, "I don't know how you figure you have a right to be angry with me—"

"Because you've been so bloody stupid! I mean, what, you just fancied a walk outside under the _full moon_? What the hell were you thinking? You _knew _that Remus—"

"Well, excuse me, but no one said anything about him running around _on the grounds _every month! Or that the three of you are, I'm assuming, _illegal _Animagi!"

"Which is why we couldn't tell you about it, obviously!"

"Then you can't yell at me for this! I think, of the four of us, you're the one being stupid here—"

"So what would you suggest we do? We became Animagi for Remus's sake; it's not like we just did it for laughs or anything—"

"I don't care—that's not the point!"

"Oh, I see," Potter said scathingly. "You think he doesn't deserve our help, because he's too dangerous, that he doesn't deserve for the experience to be anything but incredibly painful—God, Evans, you're just as prejudiced as the rest of them."

"James!" Sirius yelled, sounding shocked.

I felt like Potter had punched me in the stomach. I couldn't believe he'd said—that he'd had the _nerve _to say that to me!

"Okay, that's it," Sirius continued. "You"—he pointed a commanding finger at Potter—"go—go sit down and just shut up until you've calmed the hell down." Potter obeyed, throwing himself furiously into an empty desk. Sirius turned to me, and I blinked rapidly to fight back the tears that had sprung to my eyes. "You sure you're okay?" he asked more gently.

"No," I said truthfully.

Sirius glared at James again. "But, you haven't been hurt or anything, right? I think I might have scratched you a bit when I knocked you down . . ."

Belatedly remembering the sting in my shoulder, I glanced down to find that I was, indeed, bleeding from a couple of shallow grazes on my shoulder. "Yeah, I guess you did, a little, but it's not too bad—"

"Here," Sirius said, taking out his wand and directing it at my injury. Instantly, the wounds knitted themselves back together, giving the cuts an appearance of being several days old. "I've had a lot of practice," he added, somewhat bitterly, in response to my surprised look.

"Well, are you going to tell her—" James started derisively, and my blood boiled again at the sound of his voice.

"Yeah, I think I told you to be quiet, Prongs," Sirius snapped. More calmly, he added to me, "You might want to sit as well—it's kind of a long story."

I complied, situating myself so I wouldn't have to look at Potter.

"Right," Sirius said quietly. He glanced at Peter, who had remained fearfully silent so far, then looked back at me. "So, you know the first part, about Dumbledore allowing Remus to come to Hogwarts, planting the Whomping Willow, and all of that. Well, for our first few months here, he hid all of that from the three of us, making excuses as he has to you about being sick, or his mother being ill . . . of course, he couldn't hide it forever, not from his best mates, and we eventually figured it out.

"Well, at first—being us—we thought it was ridiculously cool that one of our friends was a werewolf." He smiled a little. "But we soon realized it really wasn't cool at all, at least not for Remus. He'd come back after every full moon with fresh cuts and scratches that he'd given himself. Not to mention that the whole process completely wiped him out. And while we couldn't help with that second bit, we knew there must be some way to deal with the issue of him attacking himself. The problem was that he had no where to go—being trapped like that is what triggered the self-injury."

"So you became Animagi," I said, understanding.

Sirius nodded. "It took a while—"

"Especially for me," Peter muttered, and Sirius grinned at him.

"—but we managed it at the beginning of last year."

"So you do this"—I gestured vaguely between them and towards the outside of the castle—"every month?"

Sirius nodded.

"And Remus hasn't—I mean, he's never . . . attacked anyone?"

"Not until tonight," Sirius said, his face hardening slightly. "Lily—God, I'm sorry about all of this—I know apologizing doesn't really seem right, but . . . you must think we're a bunch of idiots, and I'm starting to think that a bit myself, but you—you understand . . . why, don't you?"  
I smiled slightly. "I've never understood why you're idiots, Sirius"—he returned my smile—"but yes—I get it. Why you had to do it. For Remus." I glanced back briefly at James, but he was no longer looking at any of us. He'd leaned forward on the desk, his head in his hands. I felt absolutely no sympathy for him this time, however—what he'd said to me was unforgiveable. I didn't care if he'd been angry . . . and I suddenly realized how similar this was to what had happened between Sev and I last year. Ignoring the disturbing sense of déjà vu, I looked back at Sirius. "So, um, back to the common room, then?" I said, fully aware of how odd that sounded.

Sirius and Peter exchanged glances again. "Actually, we have to—er," Peter started uncomfortably.

"We've got to get Remus back into the Shack, so he doesn't wake up in the middle of the Forbidden Forest tomorrow," Sirius finished matter-of-factly.

"Oh. Right," I said. "Well, thanks for, um, saving me and—and everything," I added awkwardly. Turning away, I started for the door.

"Evans!" Potter suddenly called out from behind me.

I looked around to find him on his feet, but before he could say anything, I cut in contemptuously, "Potter, I'd appreciate it if you never tried to speak to me again."

**OOOOOOOO**

I'd been undeservedly harsh—I realized it before I'd even climbed the stairs to the second floor. But at the moment, I really couldn't bring myself to care. _You're just as prejudiced as the rest of them_. I felt anger pulse through me again as the words echoed in my head. And yet . . . a very small, nearly unacknowledged part of me didn't want this to be the end of James's and my short-lived friendship.

My stubbornness and sill-fresh fury quickly doused that thought, however. I focused instead on praying that the common room would be empty of both A.J. and Mary—I really didn't want to talk to either of them about what had happened tonight just yet. Especially since there wasn't much of it I _could _tell A.J. _That's going to be a fun conversation_, I thought sardonically. _I'll have to come up with some sort of excuse for why I never came back after rounds . . . _

I breathed a sigh of relief as I crossed the mostly deserted common room, but sighed inwardly as I entered my dorm to find all three of my roommates still awake. Marlene and Dorcas were sitting on Marlene's bed and chatting about something—I didn't really care what—and Mary was reading on her bed, but she set her book aside as soon as she saw me.

"Where've you been?" she asked, sounding curious rather than accusatory. "A.J. asked me earlier if I'd seen you—"

"Was he mad?" I asked apprehensively.

Mary shrugged. "No, I don't think so. He went to bed about half an hour ago." I nodded. Frowning, Mary added, "Is something wrong? You seem . . . distracted." _Why ever could that be, I wonder? _Just as I was about to lie and say I was fine—I'd tell Mary the truth eventually, of course, but right now I just wanted to sleep—her blue eyes found the slash marks in the right shoulder of my robes.

"Why are your robes ripped?" she demanded.

Marlene and Dorcas's conversation stopped abruptly; out of the corner of my eye, I saw them glance over at us. No doubt 'attacked by a werewolf' was low on their list of explanations for why my robes might be ripped. Nevertheless, I wasn't going to explain things to Mary where they could overhear.

"Caught my sleeve on a low-hanging branch," I invented, hoping my voice sounded nonchalant, even as I shot Mary a significant look. "I went for a walk after rounds." _Well, at least that part's true_.

Catching on, Mary nodded. "Oh, right," she said, and I narrowed my eyes slightly at her just a bit too casual tone. "Listen, I've just remembered I left a book in the common room—I'm going to run down there and get it before I forget."

"Okay," I said, giving her a small smile—this time she'd sounded less suspicious.

As the door shut behind Mary, I changed into my pajamas like nothing was wrong. Eventually, Marlene and Dorcas resumed their conversation—listening in this time, I gathered that it was about some sixth year Ravenclaw bloke who'd had 'the nerve' to ask out Melinda Jones, also a Ravenclaw, and the prettiest girl in our year. I rolled my eyes—_good for him, I'd say._

Engrossed as they were in discussing just how much the two _wouldn't _make a good couple, neither noticed me slip quietly out of the dorm.

Mary was waiting for me in the common room, which was now devoid of any students. "So?" she pressed as soon as I reached her.

Taking a deep breath, I launched into the story of Remus's attack and how James and Sirius had driven him away, saving my life. The whole thing still sounded absurd to me, but when I'd finished, Mary only looked horrified. I figured this was probably due to the fact that she'd already known part of it—the part about James, Sirius and Peter being Animagi—and I told her as much.

"That's what you nearly told me when you found out I'd figured everything out about Remus, isn't it?"

Mary nodded. "Yes, but Merlin, Lily, that's hardly the point—I can't believe that you—I mean he could have—you could have been—"

"I know," I interrupted her. "I'm trying not to think about it, to be perfectly honest."

Mary seemed to collect herself a little. "Right, of course—I'm sorry."

"No, don't apologize—speaking of apologies, any ideas for what I can tell A.J.? Since I can't, obviously, share basically any of the truth of what happened tonight."

My friend bit her lip, thinking. After a minute or so, she shook her head. "I don't know, Lily, I guess you'll just have say you got caught up with rounds or something."

"You know I'm a terrible liar, Mary."

She smiled slightly. "Well, practice makes perfect, right?"

I rolled my eyes, and we started back upstairs to our dormitory. Despite what I'd said, I _had _successfully avoided telling her anything about my fight with Potter—not exactly a lie, I know, but still. However, this _was _Mary we were talking about, so I knew she'd find out about it eventually.

**OOOOOOOO**

I started off the next day irritated and tired and ended it in tears.

First, I didn't get much sleep, punctuated as it was by dreams of being chased by . . . something—I was never able to work out whether my pursuer was human or otherwise. Still, it didn't take a genius to figure out what had inspired the theme. So I was crabby when I woke and had a slight headache from lack of sleep. It worsened when I realized halfway through my shower that I hadn't done any of my homework from the day before. Consequently, I skipped breakfast to finish Arithmancy—my first lesson of the day. While I was working on it, A.J. descended into the common room on his way to breakfast. Spotting me, he immediately came over and asked what had happened to me last night.

"Look, I'm sorry about that, but I really can't talk right now—I have to finish this in"—I checked my watch—"twenty minutes, and since an Arithmancy assignment normally takes me about an hour, I'm going to need a miracle as it is."

A.J. frowned at me, looking slightly affronted. "What happened?" he repeated.

Brushing my hair out of my eyes with an impatient sigh, I said, "What did I just—"

"Yeah, I heard you," A.J. said, somewhat snappishly, "but I think you'll be okay skipping out on homework once in your life. There's something you're not telling me."

_How the hell can he already read me that well? _I thought, annoyed. I suppose I shouldn't have been—weren't girls usually complaining about how _un_perceptive their boyfriends were? But in this case, I could have done without it. "I'm sorry," I said again, trying to sound sincere despite my currently short-circuited temper. "I got caught up—" I started, thinking of Mary's suggestion the previous night. But I knew it would sound fake, so I stopped, sighed again, and said instead, "No, you're right—something did happen that I'm leaving out." I paused, knowing what I was going to say next wouldn't exactly make A.J. jump for joy. "But I . . . I can't tell you." Merlin, that sounded lame even to me.

"You can't tell me," A.J. repeated, slowly and skeptically.

I winced at his tone. "I'm not just saying that because it's . . . embarrassing, or—or something I don't want you to know—please, believe me."

It was A.J.'s turn to sigh. "Fine, I believe you," he said, though he didn't sound quite truthful. "See you at lunch, then?"

I hesitated. "I still have Transfiguration to do too, and I'll try and get it done during break, but—"

A.J. raised his eyebrows. "Okay, I'll just see you—sometime. Maybe. If you can work me into your schedule." He definitely sounded angry now.

I frowned at him. "Come on, A.J., that's not fair."

"Oh, isn't it? Because I was under the impression that when you're dating someone, you're generally supposed to spend time with them."

"Well, I'm not going to be with you every waking second, if that's what you want," I said, frustrated.

"And yet, you had time last night to do . . . whatever this mystery thing is that you _just _can't tell me."

I let out a bitter laugh. "Trust me, if you knew what it was, you wouldn't be jealous."

"But you're still not going to tell me." It wasn't a question. When I didn't answer, A.J. snorted derisively. "Right, okay, see you."

And before I could say a word in protest, he strode to the portrait hole and out of sight.

I stared after him for a bit before remembering my Arithmancy. I worked for about five more minutes before deciding it was a lost cause and rushing off to class. On my way there, I tried to convince myself of what A.J. had said, that I could skip one assignment without needing to feel guilty. After all, Potter and Sirius had definitely skived off their fair share of homework (and class, come to that), and they still managed to get top grades. Merlin, that was annoying. My guilt wouldn't listen, however, and it was only heightened when I ended up being a couple minutes late for class.

"Sorry, Professor," I mumbled as I slid into my usual seat at the front, beside Andrew.

"It's all right, Miss Evans," Epsilon assured me with a smile. "I'd only just collected the homework—I've yet to start the lesson, so you haven't missed anything." He held out an expectant hand for my assignment, and I blushed to the roots of my hair.

"I—er—didn't finish it," I said quietly.

Epsilon looked surprised for a moment, but recovered quickly. "Fine," he said, and though he didn't sound angry or disappointed, a fresh wave of shame swept through me. "Now, I believe there are still some questions concerning the new method of solving Artemian equations that I presented on Monday . . ."

**OOOOOOOO**

Thankfully, Transfiguration went much smoother, and I was able to finish the work during break. Glad that I'd finally be able to eat today, I set off for lunch, hoping to find Mary—I'd left in a bit of a hurry that morning, and I still felt bad for lying to her last night—er, by omission, anyway—so I'd resolved to tell her the rest of the details.

However, before I could spot my brunette friend, A.J. called my name from near the entrance of the Great Hall. Turning, I waited for him to catch up to me. "Look, I'm sorry for getting mad earlier," he started. "I just—"

"No, it's okay," I assured him. "I understand why you were—and I really do wish I could tell you, but—"

"It's okay," A.J. echoed. "If you say you can't tell me . . . well, I trust you."

I felt another stab of guilt, and something of it must have shown in my expression, because as small crease appeared between A.J.'s eyes.

"So we're good, then?" he asked, somewhat uncertainly.

I smiled reassuringly at him, nodding.

"Good," he said with a grin, giving me a quick peck on the lips. Taking my hand, he started leading me towards the Gryffindor table. But as soon as I realized he was heading for where the Marauders were sitting, I stopped dead, yanking A.J. back slightly, as he was still attached to my hand. "What's up?" he said, confused.

"I—we can't sit there," I said hastily.

"Why not?"

"Because—Potter . . ." I trailed off, unsure how to explain this. "Er, so, last night—"

"Wait, you were with _him _last night? That's what you were doing?" A.J. said, dropping my hand.

"No! Well, yes, I mean he did come on rounds with me for a bit—"

Too late, I realized it was a mistake to say this. "You told me you didn't want any company," A.J. accused.

_Shit. _"Shit. A.J., I didn't—" I started, trying to backtrack.

"Don't bother explaining; I get it," he said scathingly, and turned abruptly to sit with some of his fifth year friends.

_God, he is being such a girl about this!_ I thought, exasperated. For a moment, I considered going after him, to force him to listen while I explained everything, but just then, Potter glanced up and our eyes met. Looking away quickly, so he wouldn't think he could try and talk to me again, I grabbed an apple off the table and left the Hall.

**

* * *

A/N: So as I said above, I was planning on finishing up Lily's horrible day in this chapter, but it became WAAAAAY too long, so I decided to split it up into two….with the result that the next chapter will be shorter as well, BUT also out in less than a week. Probably. I 90% promise it ;) (if that makes sense).**

**Aen 06—Yeah, so, even though I updated early, not exactly any cute L/J moments in this one….quite the opposite, actually! Sorry…I'll make it up to you in the next chapter? (actually, there IS a pretty cute L/J moment in that one…)**

**SucksRoyalHippogriff—Er, Lily sort of got hurt, though not by Remus, sorry…I did try and change it up a bit, though, with Sirius saving her and explaining everything, while James raged around like an idiot…:)**


	19. Take It Back

**A/N: I always feel redundant starting with "thanks to last week's reviewers" or something similar…but there's really only so many ways you can say thank you. Anyway, just a random thought. But, really, thanks to: swimer123, GiantPurpleRing, Bittersweet x, Aen 06, Spoo Koo, Dozy Dora, Forest Archer, BrokenFaerie16, marinewife08, Ami Ukiyo, Evisawesome, 0-0 (for some reason, your name kept disappearing?), Emotionsonhold, DarlingILoveYou, emandem, ottoismydog, Cassie Weasley, Silver Scorpion, MaryandMerlin, Pkmnluver292, i3fiction-novels, livingintwilight10593, SucksRoyalHippogriff, EchoNightFall22 and iDream Out Loud!**

**Previously, on Resolution: James was an idiot. So was A.J. (however, contrary to what some of you hoped, he's not quite out of the picture yet…). Boys are dumb.**

**Fab summary, no? I thought so ;) Also, just to get your bearings, this picks up right after lunch on the day after Lily was attacked by werewolf-Remus.**

**

* * *

Chapter 18: Take It Back**

"Did you and James have a fight?" Mary hissed at me as I slid into a seat next to her for Transfiguration that afternoon—on time with my homework done, I might add.

"What? How did you even—" I started, surprised she'd figured it out that quickly, despite knowing she would eventually. However, I was interrupted as McGonagall called for silence and began the lesson.

In between taking notes, I hastily scribbled a note to Mary. _How did you find out about that?_

_ So it's true, then,_ she wrote back.

_Yes! Now stop avoiding my question._

_ Marlene told me—apparently she heard it from Carin _(a Ravenclaw girl in our year) _who got it from one of A.J.'s friends, who got it from A.J._

After I'd taken a few seconds to work out this confusing line of gossip, I wrote back, trying to ignore the way my stomach squirmed uncomfortably as I remembered A.J.'s angry words at lunch. _I hate how fast gossip travels at Hogwarts. Anyway, I don't know why everyone should be so interested—a row between Potter and I is hardly earth-shattering news._

_ Right, but it is now that you're trying to be friends—at least, it is to me. What did you row about?_

_ It's too complicated to explain in a note—I'll tell you later_. However, Mary never received this reply, because I'd nearly forgotten we were in class and therefore wasn't looking to see if McGonagall was watching as I passed the note back to her.

"Miss Evans!" came her severe voice from the front of the room, and my hand froze halfway to Mary's desk. "I cannot imagine what could be so important for you to discuss that it would drive you to write notes in my class."

"I—it's not—sorry, Professor, I just—"

My feeble attempts at an explanation caught in my throat as McGonagall strode over and snatched the parchment from my hands. I felt myself turning red as her eyes flew over mine and Mary's words. When she'd finished, she fixed me with a stern look, arching one thin eyebrow austerely. "I'm afraid you and Miss Macdonald will just have to wait until after the lesson to continue your conversation about your personal problems with Mr. Potter."

I could have died right then. Honestly, I sincerely prayed for a few moments that a lightening bolt would strike me down. When none came, I settled for staring resolutely at either McGonagall or the notes on the board behind her for the remainder of class, not wanting to risk meeting anyone's eye, least of all Potter's. I could almost feel his boring into the back of my skull, and nearly sprinted from the room the second the bell rang.

Mary hurried to catch up with me.

"Merlin, that was embarrassing," I muttered. "Really, did she have to announce it to the entire class?"

"At least she didn't give you detention," Mary pointed out.

"I would have preferred that to complete humiliation," I said resentfully.

"So?"

"Right, Potter. Well, let's just say I think our little friendship experiment is officially over." And I told her what had transpired in the small room off the Entrance Hall after my close call with Remus.

When I was done, I turned to see Mary biting her lip hesitantly.

"What?"

"Well, I don't know, Lily—don't you think you're being a little unfair?"

I just stared at her.

"I mean," Mary hurried on, "that's not exactly worth ending your friendship over, is it?"

"I can't believe you're taking his side! Come to think of it, you do that alarmingly often for someone who's supposed to be _my_ best friend!"

Mary frowned at me. "Oh, stop it, Lily," she snapped. "You're acting childish—and I only take his side when he deserves it, and when you're being—"

"What? He doesn't _deserve _it! He accused me of—"

"Yes, I know—I heard you the first time," Mary interrupted impatiently. "But he was angry; everyone says stupid things when they're angry. You of all people should know that." Immediately, Mary clapped a hand over her mouth, horrified. "I didn't—that's not what I meant, Lily—"

"Really? Because I think that's exactly what you meant to say," I retorted. "If you feel the need to offer more of your brilliant support, I'll be in the library."

"Lily, wait—"

But I didn't turn or slow my brisk stride as I headed for the one place where I could always find sanctuary.

**OOOOOOOO**

It was worse, much worse, being in the library. Too quiet, it gave me ample chance to dwell on how horrible the last twenty-four hours had been. On top of that, I wasn't able to get any work done at all, which meant I'd be facing another frantic day of catching up tomorrow.

As I headed up to get Remus for rounds—yes, this also happened to be the one week a month where we were on duty two nights in a row—I realized I hadn't eaten supper. My stomach grumbled mournfully at this revelation, but there was nothing I could do about it now. When I entered the common room, my eyes, as though by some magnetic force, were immediately drawn to Mary, sitting over in our usual corner. She seemed to be resolutely avoiding my gaze, or perhaps she merely hadn't seen me walk in. However, I would have felt pretty comfortable putting money on the former.

Looking away quickly, I saw that my path to Remus would take me past A.J. and his friends. Sighing, but at this point resigned to the unjust suffering that was currently my life, I walked over to the Marauders's fireside chairs, pretending I didn't see A.J.'s glare as I passed.

Both Remus and Potter looked up as I approached, and I thought I saw something akin to apprehension flash through Remus's eyes (something might have flashed through Potter's as well, but I was currently pretending he didn't exist, so I couldn't say). Belatedly, I considered that Remus would undoubtedly feel incredibly guilty about last night—in the chaos of today, I'd nearly forgotten I'd almost been attacked by a werewolf. Guess that said something about how bad my day had been.

Cringing inwardly at the thought of having to endure his apologies, when they were completely unnecessary, I attempted to make my voice light and normal as I asked, "So, you ready? You better be, because I'm not doing it by myself again." _God, Lily, what is wrong with you? _I thought in frustration, _it's bad enough without you throwing out a huge hint about it_.

Thankfully, Remus merely nodded and stood to follow me out of the common room. Just before I turned away, Potter said, "You can't ignore me forever, you know." Apparently he hadn't taken the hint from my indifference.

Raising my eyebrows and giving him a look that clearly said, 'just watch me,' I left without saying a word.

The minute we cleared the portrait hole, Remus looked at me seriously and said, "Look, Lily, I feel horrible about—"

"Remus," I interrupted shortly, "if you so much as try to apologize to me for what happened yesterday, I swear to all that is magical I will curse you into the next century."

After a moment of slightly shocked silence, Remus said, "Point taken." Pause. "So, you and James are fighting, huh?"

I fixed him with a look that would have made a lesser man cower in fear. But Remus had seen his fair share of them—granted, they were usually directed at Potter and not him, but still—so he met my gaze evenly. "_That's _the topic you decided to switch to? You realize that, right now, Potter is a subject that will not help you in the cursing-you-into-the-next-century department."

"Well, I've always fancied the idea of time travel, so . . ." Remus said with a small smile.

I stared at him, open-mouthed. "This isn't funny! Merlin, everything is a joke with all of you, isn't it?"

That wiped the smile off his face. "I perfectly understand the seriousness of what happened, if that's what you mean," he said, a little tersely.

I grimaced. "No, of course, I know you do."

"And I think you should forgive James."

I rolled my eyes. "Well, obviously you'd say that—he's your best mate. You're morally obligated to take his side." _Something Mary doesn't understand, evidently._

Remus snorted. "No, I'm not. But . . . Lily, can't you cut him a little slack?"

I sighed in frustration. "Why doesn't anyone—you know what he said to me, right?"

"Yes, but I also know—and you know it too—that he didn't mean it."

"I don't care."

"He knows you don't think that," Remus continued, as though I hadn't spoken. "More importantly, _I _know you don't think that. I told you he always gets too righteously angry on my behalf."

"Yeah, but not with Sirius or Peter, I bet," I said, still refusing to believe I was in the wrong.

Remus raised his eyebrows. "He was pretty pissed last year, after Sirius pulled that prank on Snape. So was I, come to that," he muttered.

"Well, that's because Sirius was an idiot. I, on the other hand, didn't do anything to deserve—" I stopped, realizing how self-righteous that sounded. "Merlin, I sound like a snob, don't I?" Sighing, I added, "Anyway, you're not going to convince me to run back right now to apologize—wait, what am I saying? He's the one who needs to apologize."

"And I fully agree with that—I just think you should give him the chance to."

I didn't answer, and we continued rounds mostly in silence for the rest of the night. My cursed conscience was starting to make me feel guilty about blowing up at Potter—I mean, he had deserved _some _of it, but perhaps requesting that he 'never speak to me again' had been a little harsh. And frankly, slightly melodramatic. Of course, this (paradoxical as it may seem) only made me angrier at him, because I hated apologies. I took out my anger on the many snogging couples—just one of those nights, I guess—Remus and I had to kick out of alcoves and off the Astronomy tower. Seeing them not only nauseated me slightly, but also reminded me (again) of my fight with A.J., with the result that I gave the last couple detention without a second thought and ordered them out of my sight within five seconds, or it would be a week's worth of detentions. Both shot me dirty looks; but, in my defense, they were only third years—it's not like their relationship could possibly be going anywhere. I mean, the average lifespan of a relationship in my third year had been about a week. Plus, they were out after curfew, so that would have been reason enough for detention.

To his credit, Remus didn't comment on the punishment; instead, he helpfully glared authoritatively after the retreating couple. His face relaxed the minute they were out of sight, and if I hadn't been feeling so cross and tired and _hungry_, I would have laughed.

"What's the point when you're thirteen?" I remarked to no one in particular.

As Remus was the only other person present, he naturally assumed I'd been addressing him. "Practice, I s'pose," he answered thoughtfully.

I rolled my eyes. "You don't need practice; honestly, it's not _that _hard."

Remus shrugged. "I don't know—I think it's somewhat valid."

"I'm sure your kissing is more than satisfactory, Remus."

He smirked at me. "Offering to kiss me again, are you, Lily?"

I glared at him. "No, I'm merely speculating on your snogging talents."

"Clearly."

At this point, we'd reached the common room, and I let Remus enter first.

"Well, I appreciate the vote of confidence," he added over his shoulder with a grin.

But I wasn't really listening, because I'd just spotted Mary, A.J., and Potter again—none of them had moved in the past two hours. Suddenly, everything that I'd studiously refused to deal with all day came rushing forth, threatening to overwhelm me. I felt tears prick the back of my eyes, and before I knew what I was doing, I'd turned abruptly back the way I'd come, striding out of the portrait hole again and down a corridor at random, no particular destination in mind.

I'd barely taken ten steps when a voice called out behind me.

"Evans!"

_Potter._ Whirling around, I snapped, "I'm not speaking to you, Potter, remember?"

"Okay, well, ignoring the fact that you just did, I was—" he stopped suddenly as he reached me and noticed the tears shining unshed in my eyes. "What's wrong?" he asked, his tone changing from irritated to concerned.

And that was it. I lost it. "Everything!" I cried, tears streaking down my cheeks. "I didn't finish my Arithmancy homework, even though I skipped breakfast to do it, and then I was late to class for the first time in my life—I mean, Epsilon didn't give me detention or anything, but it was still humiliating! I couldn't have lunch because you were there, and A.J. had just freaked out at me because we went on rounds together last night even though I'd turned down his offer come with me. Mary's completely on your side for some reason, and so is Remus, and they've both made me feel like a horrible person, so I'm all guilty about that, and now, to top it off, I've just given you a huge speech about my problems even though I never wanted to talk to you again!"

Exhausted by my outburst, I leaned back against the wall beside me, sliding down to sit at its base. Though most males would rather be anywhere than with a hysterical crying girl, James only hesitated briefly before imitating my actions so that he was seated beside me. He glanced at me, but, having gained control of myself at last, I was now staring resolutely at the wall across from us, and he soon turned his head to do the same. "Well, I didn't really understand any of that—" he started, and I let out a shaky half-laugh, "—but I am glad you're talking to me again, because I need to apologize to you." He looked at me again, and didn't seem perturbed when I didn't reciprocate the gesture. "Lily"—there he was, using my first name again—"I'm really sorry for what I said last night—I've felt horrible about it all day. You didn't deserve it, and I didn't mean it, I was just—"

"Angry," I finished for him. "I know. And it's all ri—"

"No, I wasn't angry. I mean, I was, but it was more to cover up the fact that I was . . . scared." He said this last part quietly.

That finally made me look at him, because it was the last thing I'd expected him to say. "What?" I said, a small frown creasing my brow.

"We've never had a close call like that, in the whole year and a half we've been going out with Remus on full moons—well, unless you count Snape. But this wasn't Snape, and even though I wouldn't wish it on anyone, not even him, I especially didn't want it to be you, and I—if Sirius had gotten to you even a half second later . . . I don't think I've ever been that scared in my life." He smiled crookedly. Neither of us spoke for a moment, and then Potter added, "I didn't mean for that to sound like I . . . I mean, I'm not . . . you know."

I nodded.

"And after last night, I'd half-expected you to rather be friends with Sirius than me." The left corner of his mouth lifted slightly again.

"Trust me, I wouldn't," I said hurriedly. Both of us looked up in equal surprise. "Wow, really?" I asked.

James shrugged, bemused. "I don't know, you said it."

"No, I know, I just—wasn't exactly expecting it." I laughed. "Well, that sounds strange."

"I'd say it sounds about right, actually, considering."

"Considering what?"

"Us," he replied simply, and I had to agree. I'd spent so long avidly _not _wanting to be friends with Potter that it was only fitting for the realization that the opposite was now true to sneak up on me.

_So, I actually do want to be friends with him, and it's not just some crazy phase. That's nice to know, I guess. _"At least I know I'm not insane," I said aloud.

"What?"

"Never mind. Though I think one could make the argument that you cursed it all from the beginning by calling it a resolution."

"What?" James repeated.

"You said it was my New Year's resolution, trying to be friends with you. And everyone knows those are basically made to be broken."

James grinned. "A fair point. Well, then, I apologize for that as well." He paused thoughtfully. "Must be some kind of record, don't you think?"

I raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Two huge fights in one day—one night, even—"

"—One hour," I muttered.

James inclined his head towards me. "—and to have made up after both of them within twenty-four hours?"

I nodded. "Definitely one for the record books."

"Guess this means you'll have to start calling me 'James' now, huh?" he said with a smirk.

"Don't push it, Potter."

"All right, all right—all in good time, right, Evans?" he asked, putting a delicate emphasis on the last word.

"Exactly."

Potter sighed. "I knew we were in for a hard run, but I never thought this friendship thing would be so complicated," he said, the hint of a smile in his voice.

"Well, someone once told me it's not a relationship unless it's complicated," I said innocently.

The smile escaped from his voice onto his face. "Yes, I remember that. He's a rather brilliant bloke, wouldn't you say?"

I laughed and shoved James so that he was forced to put out a hand to keep from falling over.

"Speaking of relationships," James continued in a casual voice, "word on the street is A.J. is jealous of me." He looked over mischievously.

I rolled my eyes. "I thought you said you didn't understand any of my outburst," I muttered. "Though I suppose it's only fair—the jealousy thing, I mean—we're even now, aren't we?"

James grinned. "That's true. But I doubt you two will break up over it—he really likes you, after all."

I looked at him shrewdly. "How do you know?"

"Because he told me," James said breezily. He raised an eyebrow. "Why do you think I introduced you in the first place?"

My jaw dropped. _Potter playing matchmaker? Now that is strange_. "You—" But before I could say anything else, I was interrupted by a loud gurgling sound.

"Merlin, Evans, was that your stomach?"

I grimaced. "Yes. I sort of haven't had anything to eat today." As I said it, my stomach growled again.

"Nothing?"

"Well, I had an apple at lunch . . . ugh, can we not talk about it? It's just making it worse." Now that the subject had been broached, I was acutely aware of how painfully empty my stomach felt.

"Right—this is the time for action, not words," Potter said, standing and offering me his hand.

As he pulled me to my feet, I asked, "What do you mean? Are you suggesting we go to the kitchens? Because they're so far away . . ."

James rolled his eyes. "So you'd rather starve to death?"

"Well no, but—"

"Besides, you've forgotten who you're with, my dear. I can get from here to the kitchens in about two minutes."

"Really?" I said skeptically.

"Would I lie to you?"  
"Yes."

"Okay, fine, but would I lie to you about food?"

I smiled. "All right, lead on Potter. I have to get my bag from the library at some point anyway, so I suppose I might as well eat while I'm at it."

"An excellent philosophy."

So we started down the corridor towards the stairs. But just as we passed the portrait hole, A.J. came bursting out of it, and, spotting me, said, "Lily, I have to talk to you."

"Er," I started, glancing at James. Not that I felt bad about ditching him, but I _was _really hungry . . . _Wait, what am I saying? That my _stomach _is more important than my boyfriend? That sounds like a Sirius Black move—I really should stop hanging around them so much_.

James grinned. "See you," he said to me, but instead of going back into the common room, as I expected, he continued the way we'd been heading.

Figuring he'd succumbed to the power of suggestion and was going to the kitchens to get something for himself—after all, the boy could always eat—I turned my attention to A.J. Not wanting to forgive him _too _easily, since I was really losing my touch in that area, if how readily I'd accepted Potter's apology was anything to go by, I crossed my arms and fixed an aloof look on my face.

"What do you want?" I asked, keeping my voice clipped and meeting his eyes evenly. This was somewhat of a mistake, I soon discovered, because his eyes were definitely my weak point.

"Look, Lily, I'm sorry I was such a prick today; I guess I just got a bit jealous, which is completely stupid, because I know you and James are just friends—and barely even that, right?" he said with a grin.

_I wouldn't say 'barely'_, I thought defensively, not really sure why this annoyed me so much. But I'd had enough arguments for the day, so all I said was, "You're right—that was stupid." A.J. winced. "But I suppose I can forgive you," I added with a slight smile. Okay, I know, so much for not forgiving him easily—I guess I'd used up all my anger for the day. And as A.J. smiled back and leaned in to kiss me, I thought, _It's hardly worth staying angry anyway. Really just a waste of time, time that can be spent doing . . . other things._

It may or may not have taken us nearly half an hour to make it back to the common room, and I suppose that, by rights, I should have given myself detention. But what was the point of having power if you weren't going to abuse it, right? _Merlin, James really is starting to rub off on me_, I thought, a little surprised at myself but not horrified with the discovery as I would have been a few months ago.

I had one more apology to make, and was glad to find Mary still awake when I walked into our dormitory. "Okay, you know how I hate apologies, so can we just hug and call truce?" I asked without preamble.

Mary grinned, hopped off her bed, and hugged me tightly. "Everything good now? I mean, not just with us, but . . ."

"Yes, and thank God this day is finally over. And what smells so delicious?" I added, sniffing appreciatively.

"You'll want to be careful about sitting down on your bed," Mary said by way of answering, winking mysteriously.

"What?" I asked, frowning. Pulling back my bed hangings, I gasped. Spread out over my comforter was a literal feast. It looked like leftovers from dinner—pork chops, mashed potatoes, green beans, an entire loaf of bread, a flagon of pumpkin juice, and several sweets, including treacle tart, which was my all-time favorite dessert. Under the pumpkin juice was a note, written in James's messy scrawl.

_Lily,_

_I wasn't sure what you liked, so I got you a bit of everything—I can assure you that it's all delicious, because of course I had to sample it as well. If you don't finish it all (and since you're not Sirius, I'm assuming you won't—incidentally, if you **do **eat all of it, let me know, because I'll be quite impressed), you can just leave whatever you don't want outside your door and the house elves will pick it up again. Oh, and your bag's at the foot of your bed. As to how I got all this up here . . . well, I'd tell you, but then I'd have to kill you. Suffice it to say I didn't use Marlene this time._

_See you at breakfast._

_James_

As I set down the note and started thankfully on the food, I couldn't for the life of me understand why the principal feeling I had was one of regret.

**

* * *

A/N: Everyone together now….AWWWWWW. Haha. Okay, so there's James's cute moment for the year…no, just kidding, he'll have more ;)**

**I realize I might have strayed a bit from the usual Remus-freaks-out-about-nearly-attacking-Lily thing, but I just didn't feel it for this story. I mean, I'm sure he freaked out right away, when James and co told him what happened, but I felt like he'd be more worried that Lily would hate him forever. And honestly, he's a pretty chill dude. I mean, even in PoA, we don't see him all self-hating about going all werewolf on Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Not that he doesn't recognize what COULD have happened, and that it would have been très bad. Anyway, just a little clarification for y'all.**

**Also, as a little bonus, here's A.J.: **

**./_ (okay, I don't think pasting the link in here is going to work, so just google image search Jesus Navas if you're actually curious...)  
**

**Okay, not really. He's a Spanish footballer (that's soccer, for all you crazy Americans…oh wait, that would include me….), and when I was watching the World Cup (not that I'm a football fan, per se, but I felt like, it's the World Cup, I should probably watch it…I can see all you true football fans shaking your heads in disappointment at my lackluster pride…), I saw him and was like, hello, you beautiful man. Anyway, when I was writing A.J., I knew I wanted him to have the whole dark hair/light eyes thing going on, and that picture popped into my head. So there you go.**


	20. Release

**A/N: G'day mates! Right, so . . . no idea where that came from. Ahem. Anyway. Thanks to SeriouslySiriusBlack, HerHeadsInTheSky, SecretBlack, (hope your exam went well!), BrokenFaerie16, dancer987, .forever2116, leeease, skazmi, emotionsonhold, swimer123, ottoismydog, Lexi Roxi Lauren Chipsterz xxx (random, two of my cousins are named Lexi and Lauren, and I def. thought of them when I read your name), Silver Scorpion, EchoNightFall22, Cassie Weasley, Evisawesome, jak23, Alice Demer, Ami Ukiyo, DarlingILoveYou, Bittersweet x, angiedotdotla, and Elless for reviewing last week!**

**Some people wondered what Lily's 'feeling of regret' meant at the end of Ch. 18. Since she's going to figure it out herself, but not really in a specific sense, and not for . . . some more time ;) I thought I'd step in as the omniscient author and explain. She was (in my mind, anyway) regretting ditching James, as well as (to some extent) hating him for so long.**

**Well, onward!**

**

* * *

Chapter 19:** **Release**

Considering how badly yesterday had turned out, I decided not to skip breakfast the next morning just in case that would jinx it, despite the load of homework I'd left undone the night before. In the Great Hall, Mary split off to go sit with Andrew at the Ravenclaw table—the pair hadn't seen much of each other over the past few days, so they'd arranged a breakfast date this morning. I didn't mind; I could eat alone without feeling self-conscious about it.

As it turned out, I didn't have to eat alone after all, because Potter waved me down as I reached the Gryffindor table.

"Where're Remus, Sirius, and Peter?" I asked as I sat across from him. "Aren't you all joined at the hip, or something?"  
"Ha, ha. No, Remus was still feeling tired from the full moon,"—this in a low voice, to ensure no one would overhear him—"so he's have a lie in. Peter had to finish up homework, and Sirius was the lucky one enlisted to help him."

My insides squirmed guiltily as I was reminded of my own unfinished work. "I should probably be up there doing the same, but . . ."

James raised an eyebrow. "Lily Evans, are you skipping out on homework two days in a row? That's almost worse than me! In fact, I don't think I've ever done that."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Yeah right, I'm sure you have."

"No, really, I haven't! Coincidentally, if you're not opposed to copying, you can borrow mine before class."

"I might take you up on that, actually."

Potter sat back, pretending to be shocked. "Sorry, but did you just agree to cheating?"

I threw a sausage at him—he caught it, of course, and popped it into his mouth with a grin. "I'm not a complete swot, you know."

"Not anymore," Potter agreed, and I glared at him for the hidden implication. He just grinned wider.

"Though I'm not sure I should since you just insulted me, I wanted to thank you for last night—and _don't _interpret that how I know you want to—I meant for the food and everything."

"No problem."

"So, how _did _you get it all up there?"

Potter raised an eyebrow. "You really want to know?"

I thought about it for a minute before nodding. "Yes, I really do."

"Okay." He leaned forward, placing his elbows on the table and lowering his voice conspiratorially. "I flew."

I frowned. "What?"

"I flew," he repeated. "Strapped everything to my broomstick and flew up to the dormitory window—Mary let me in."

I stared at him. Then I grinned. "You're putting me on."

"No, I'm not! It's how we've always gotten up to the girls' dormitories."

"We?"

"Sirius and I."

"I should've guessed. Well, so much for our supposed security measures to prevent exactly that."

"I figure the founders couldn't have actually meant to keep boys out—I mean, they must've thought of brooms. I just look at the 'security measures' as a way to ensure only the most worthy members of the male species can enter," he said with a wink.

"Or at least only those with untrustworthy intentions."

Potter grinned. "One of the two. Luckily for Padfoot and me, we're both."

I raised my eyes to the ceiling, but couldn't help smiling a bit.

"So, would you prefer a quick death then? I think that would be the most merciful way to do it."

"What?" I said, completely bewildered.

"You know, since I've told you the secret, I've got to kill you now," Potter replied matter-of-factly.

"Hey, now, that's not fair!"

James shrugged. "Sure it is. I _did _give you fair warning, after all. And yet you asked anyway."

"Then you shouldn't have told me! You don't want me to die, do you?"

He sighed melodramatically. "I'll admit, it'll be a heavy loss, but I'll manage somehow."

Before I could reply, A.J. plopped down beside me. "Good morning, beautiful," he greeted me, planting a kiss on my temple.

"Hey gorgeous," James replied with a sultry wink.

I snorted, but A.J. just gave him a stern look. "James, I told you, it's over between us."

James's eyes widened. "You can't mean that!"

"I do, though." And just when I thought I'd been weirded out enough, A.J. grinned suddenly and said, "Unless Lily's open to a threesome?"

I honestly felt my breakfast come back up slightly. "God, no. I can't believe you would even ask!" I said, shooting A.J. a revolted look.

"And on that strange and disturbing note, I've got to go," Potter announced, standing. "Gotta make sure Remus is awake, and see that Sirius hasn't gotten completely frustrated with Peter and just finished his homework for him. He'll never learn that way, after all," he added with a smirk. "I'll see you at practice, Rookie, if not before, and Evans—see you in class."

"See you," I said.

"Bye, love," A.J. added, earning another smirk from Potter.

"Seriously, stop that would you?" I said.

He laughed and started in on his eggs again.

Glancing up and down the table, I said, "Now that James has left, we're one of those weird couples who sit on the same side of the table."

"And is that a problem? You have to admit, it makes it much easier to do this." He turned my face toward him and gave me a quick kiss.

I fixed him with a considering look when we broke apart. "Well, that's true. Still, most people don't appreciate witnessing public snogging before at least noon—trust me, I used to be one of them."

"Fine," A.J. said with an exaggerated sigh. Then, with far more grace than I could have managed it, he slid under the table and popped back out on the opposite bench.

**OOOOOOOO**

I met up with Mary just outside our Defense classroom. "So, how's the boyfriend?" I asked, linking my arm through hers.

"He's good—and yours?"

"As infuriatingly cute as ever—though remind me to tell you later what he said about Potter." We sat down next to each other towards the center of the room.

Mary raised an eyebrow. "Hmm, intriguing."

"No, not really—more disturbing, actually."

"Disturbing and Potter? Never," Mary said sarcastically.

"I resent that, Miss Macdonald," the subject of our conversation said as he slid into a seat behind me, followed closely by Remus, Sirius, and Peter. Reaching around me, he set a piece of parchment on my desk. Glancing down, I saw it was our homework for today.

"Oh, right—well, I don't think I really have time to copy it, but thanks anyway," I said half-turning in my chair to hand the paper back.

Potter shrugged. "Suit yourself. But Galbraithe isn't exactly one to let you off easy."

I wrinkled my nose. "Yeah, I know."

"Evans, you should have let me know you hadn't done your homework yet," Sirius said. "You could've joined the I-like-to-leave-my-homework-til-the-morning-before-and-then-force-Sirius-to-help-me-with-it club." He shot a glare at Peter, who shrank slightly in his seat.

I rolled my eyes. "First of all, that is an absurdly long name for a club. And second, don't give Peter a hard time—you know it's hardly an effort for you to help him, since you already know it all."

Sirius gave me a surprised look. "Did that—are you complimenting me?"

"You're welcome," I said.

Sirius didn't have a chance to reply, however, because Galbraithe entered at that moment to begin the lesson.

"Good morning everyone—if I could have your homework first, please?" There was a scraping of chairs as the class queued in front of the professor's desk to hand in their papers.

I joined the back of the line, and when I finally reached Galbraithe's desk, I said sheepishly, "Er, I didn't get a chance to complete my homework, Professor."

She raised her eyebrows. "Indeed, Miss Evans? Well, if you could stop by to see me after class."

"Of course." _This can't be good_.

**OOOOOOOO**

"I can't believe she gave me detention," I said for the third time at lunch that day. I wasn't as disappointed with myself as I'd have expected for my first detention; I was more pissed at Galbraithe for what I saw as a highly unfair punishment. "I mean, she knows I'm a good student! Right? Don't I get some sort of grace period, just this once? She's still making me do the homework—I think that should be good enough."

"Well, she has to treat everyone the same, Evans," Sirius said condolingly, though his tone didn't convince me. He and James had looked extremely amused when I'd shared the news after class. "She can't play favorites."

"Slughorn does," I muttered. I knew that sounded snobbish, but I couldn't help thinking about how he'd have handled the situation—he probably wouldn't have made me hand in the work at all, and I was sure the words "detention" and "Lily" would never cross his lips in the same sentence.

"I've never really understood why he likes you so much anyway," Mary mused, almost to herself.

I glared at her. "Wow, thanks."

"Well, Evans, I have to say I'm impressed—getting detention all on your own, without me having to help you along," James said with a smirk.

"Yes, welcome to the realm of the normal," Sirius added.

I sighed. "How many times do I have to say it? Never getting detention is not _abnormal_."

"Of course it is," Sirius said, frowning at me as though I'd suggested the sky was green.

"Even Moony's had detention," Peter put in, as though this settled the matter.

"He has a point," Remus said, lips twitching.

"Oh come on, Remus, I thought you, at least, would be on my side," I said.

"Never trust a Marauder, Lily," A.J. said wisely.

James shot him a warning look. "Watch yourself, Rookie."

A.J. grinned. "What? I thought you all prided yourselves on not being trustworthy?"

"Untrustworthiness _is _kind of suggested by the name 'Marauder' itself," Mary added.

James pretended to look thoughtful. "I suppose," he said slowly after a moment. "Well, no wonder Filch didn't believe me last week when I swore I hadn't hung Mrs. Norris from the chandelier in the teacher's lounge."

**OOOOOOOO**

"So, if I could have your wand, Miss Evans, just to be sure you won't be tempted," Galbraithe said, holding out her hand.

I barely refrained from rolling my eyes, and couldn't quite hold back the annoyed sigh that escaped my lips as I handed it over.

"Thank you. I'll be back in an hour."

I nodded, and my professor left the room. Turning resignedly towards the task before me, I picked up the bucket and sponge she'd left behind. For my detention, I'd been assigned to clean the ink stains off the desks in our Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. Without magic, naturally. Having been raised as a Muggle, I'd had my fair share of experience with mundane, non-magical cleaning. But that didn't mean I liked it.

Knowing just standing there staring at the desks wouldn't help them get clean, I sighed again as I knelt before the desk in the front left corner of the room. My arm started aching before I'd even finished the first row. I paused to shake it out and stretch my back, which was getting cramped leaning over the desks. As I bent back over to start on the second row, the door opened, causing me to look up. Not seeing anyone, I'd nearly decided Galbraithe must simply not have closed it properly when suddenly my head snapped up again.

"Potter?" I asked, knowing he was my best guess for an invisible intruder.

He pulled of his invisibility cloak, grinning. "You're good, Evans."

"Well, I don't have that many choices for invisible friends who would stalk me to my detention."

"I'm not _stalking you_," James protested. "Honestly, how many times have you accused me of that?"

"Which tells you what?"

"That you're paranoid."

"Fine. Then how did you know I was here? I didn't even know where my detention was going to be—Galbraithe just told me to meet me in her office." I crossed my arms and fixed him with a challenging look.

To my surprise, his expression suddenly turned serious. "Before I tell you, you have to swear you're not going to share what I'm about to show you with anyone. Not even Mary. Or A.J."

Sure he was joking, a hesitant smile spread across my face. "What?"

"I'm serious, Evans. This is one of our biggest secrets. And most incriminating."

I raised an eyebrow. "I'm assuming that by 'our' you mean you, Peter, Sirius and Remus. And if that's so, I'd say that being illegally unregistered Animagi is probably more incriminating than whatever this is." James didn't answer, just continued to look at me intently. I sighed. "Okay, I promise I won't tell anyone."

Potter nodded and walked towards me. He laid a wrinkled, old-looking piece of parchment on one of the desks I'd recently cleaned. I glanced skeptically up at James, but he was concentrating on the parchment, placing his wand tip against the paper. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," he said, sounding as though he was intoning a religious vow.

And to my extreme surprise, dark lines of ink began to spread across the previously blank parchment. As I watched, the seemingly random lines came together to form what I soon realized was a map of Hogwarts. And not just a map—looking closer, with increasing amazement, I saw that the parchment was covered in small, individually labeled black dots. Remus, Sirius, Peter, and Mary were all in the Gryffindor common room. A.J., shockingly, was in the library. Dumbledore was striding along the third floor corridor, while Galbraithe was stationary in her office. _Probably sitting at her desk_, I thought absently. Finally, my eyes found the Defense classroom, and the two dots labeled 'Lily Evans' and 'James Potter.'

I raised my eyes to James's face again to find him grinning once more, while I was pretty sure my face was approximately akin to a deer in headlights. "Where did you get this?" I finally managed to ask. In answer, James pointed to the top of the map, where its name was scrawled in fancy, swirling letters. Distracted by the intricacy and brilliance of the map itself, I hadn't noticed it before. Reading it now, I actually laughed out loud in shock. "'Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs are proud to present the Marauder's Map,'" I read aloud. "You made it."

"Yep," James said proudly.

"How?"

"That, I'm not going to tell you. Suffice it to say it couldn't have been accomplished by anyone less brilliant than us," he added with a wink.

"I believe it," I said sincerely, and James's grin widened. "I mean, it's actually very impressive—though I have to say it makes all your pranks less so."

James's grin slipped and he frowned at me. "Why?"

"Well, I guess it's not really the pranks themselves, but how you all always seem to get away with them so easily. That's not as remarkable now I know you've had this map the whole time."

"We haven't had it the whole time—just since last year."

"Oh." I narrowed my eyes. "So, that wouldn't happen to coincidentally line up with when you became Animagi for any particular reason, would it?"

Potter's grin returned. Instead of answering, though, he just said, "So, what's Galbraithe got you doing in here?"

"Cleaning the desks without magic. And before you say it, no, being raised as a Muggle hasn't given me an upper hand in that regard—I'm rubbish at housekeeping chores." I smiled a little. "My mum always complains it's not fair that I can use magic now to cheat."

James turned to contemplate the desks. After a moment, he raised his wand, muttered something, and waved it across the room. Instantly, the ink stains on the desks disappeared. Smirking at me, Potter said, "Well, looks like you're done with detention. Which leaves you with, what, half an hour to kill?"

"So it would seem," I agreed. "Though I do have to be back here at the end to get my wand from Galbraithe."

"And to convince her you were actually here the whole time," James added, raising his eyebrows.

"Right, that too," I said with a sheepish grin. "So, to what do I owe the pleasure of your rescue?"

James shrugged. "Just bored, I guess. Plus, I rather enjoy sneaking people out of detentions, and, as I trust you can easily imagine, I've had loads of practice over the years."

"I'm sure," I muttered. "Well, what do you suggest we do now, since you're such the expert?"

"Want to see some of the secret passages out of Hogwarts?"

To my surprise, I hardly felt guilty at all as I considered going along with Potter's suggestion. Of course, that probably had something to do with the fact that I hadn't thought this detention fair in the first place. "Sure, why not?"

"I must say, you are developing a shocking disregard for the rules, Evans," Potter commented as we left the room—after checking the Marauder's Map to make sure no teachers were nearby, of course.

"I blame you."

"I don't think I can take all the credit—I had nothing to do with you getting this detention in the first place, remember."

"True, but exploring secret passageways out of the school when I'm supposed to be in said detention is definitely more rebellious, and that is all on you."

"You didn't have to come with me," Potter countered.

_Well, can't argue with that_.

"So, there are seven passageways out of the school," James continued when I didn't answer.

"That you know of," I cut in.

Potter gave me stern look. "There are seven passageways out of the school," he repeated, and I rolled my eyes. "Or, I suppose I should say 'were.' One of them collapsed at the beginning of the year—luckily we weren't in it at the time—"

"Or unluckily, depending on your perspective," I interrupted again. "Sorry, old habits and all that," I said when Potter glared at me again.

"Anyway, there's a second one that Sirius is pretty sure Filch saw him coming out of last week, so it's been relegated to emergency use only. But the other five are fair game. So," he said, stopping in front of a tapestry of several stuffy-looking, eighteenth century wizards just to the right of a suit of armor, "this is the one we use most often—comes out just beyond Hogsmeade, so it's unlikely anyone will catch you on that end." He pulled the tapestry aside and beckoned me into the small opening it concealed. James knelt down in the cramped space, and I copied his actions.

"If you just push on this spot here," he said, giving the stone he'd indicated a firm shove. It slid back into the wall and to the side, leaving a small opening in its wake. Potter curled his fingers around the opening and pulled. A piece of the wall swung forward to reveal a dark tunnel beyond. "You sort of have to crawl along for a bit, but it opens up a little further on so there's room enough to stand." He sat back on his heels and looked at me to gauge my reaction.

"Well, I wish I had more time—I could really go for a butterbeer right now."

James grinned. "Next time, then." He pushed the door shut again, and the displaced stone slid back into place.

We straightened and pushed aside the tapestry—finding ourselves face-to-face with Mulciber and Avery. My first thought was, _why does this always happen when I'm with James? It's like we have some sort of Slytherin magnet_. Secondly, I remembered that I didn't have a wand, and the thought made me feel uncomfortably vulnerable. I took an unconscious step closer to Potter. Finally, I realized what was missing from the all-too-familiar scene: Severus.

Avery grinned evilly at us. "Didn't know you fancied Mudbloods, Potter."

I felt myself blush, as I realized how it must have looked to them, Potter and I emerging from behind a tapestry together.

I saw James's hand twitch towards his wand as he glared at Avery. Unfortunately, Mulciber noticed the movement as well, and he raised his own wand immediately. "Don't even think about it, Potter."

Avery mirrored his actions, though pointing his wand at me instead.

"Bit jumpy, aren't you?" James said, raising his eyebrows at the pair of them.

As he spoke, an idea struck me, and I moved slightly to my right, making as though to duck behind the suit of armor next to the tapestry concealing the passageway to Hogsmeade. Avery's evil grin widened. "That's not going to help you, sweetheart."

Potter glanced at me, then to the suit of armor, and understanding flashed in his eyes. With just the hint of a grin playing around his lips, he continued, "But I suppose you have reason to be nervous, don't you?" He was trying to keep Mulciber and Avery distracted, and it was working. Avery turned away from me to frown at James, and his wand lowered ever so slightly.

"What the hell are you on about, Potter?" Avery demanded.

"Well, way I hear it, your names weren't among those chosen for a certain group, which means you obviously messed up somehow, and I expect you've got to watch yourselves now."

Now I was frowning at Potter as well. _What is he talking about_?

"How do you know that?" Mulciber demanded with a snarl.

Potter shrugged nonchalantly. "So, what was it? He figured you were too dim to join him? Or too ugly—yeah, that's probably more—"

Without warning, Mulciber's fist slammed into James's face, and I winced as I heard a sickening crack. James stumbled backwards, clutching his nose, and I took advantage of Avery's now complete distraction to carry out my original plan, which was to shove the suit of armor away from the wall so that it crashed down on top of him. Pretty brilliant, no? Anyway, that effectively incapacitated him, and James, evidently recovering far sooner than Mulciber expected, made quick work of him with a Stunning spell. Even though it came out sounding more like 'Subefy' due to his recently broken nose, it still got the job done.

After ensuring that Avery had indeed been knocked unconscious—a suit of armor falling on them will generally do that to a person—I straightened and said, "Well, that was fun. Seems like you get punched in the face a lot when you're with me," I added conversationally.

James glared at me, and I had to admit his injury looked rather painful, what with all the blood that was streaming from his nose. "You're endoying dis, aren'd you?"

My lips twitched. "It's quite hard to take you seriously when you sound like that, you know."

"Dis isn'd funny, Ebans!"

I laughed—I know, horrible, but I couldn't help it. "Okay, I'm sorry. Let me heal that for you." I stepped closer and held my hand out for James's wand, but he shook his head and stepped back, putting a hand over his nose protectively.

"Doh," he said. "I don'd trust you."

I sighed. "I won't mess it up, I promise."

James shook his head again, and before I could protest, raised his wand, tapped his nose, and said, "_Ebiskey_." With a cracking sound that was almost as horrible to hear as the original break, his nose snapped back into place. "I'm perfectly capable of healing myself, thanks."

"Fine," I said, crossing my arms.

"I can't believe you _laughed _at me getting punched—that's something Sirius would do. I think he's rubbing off on you more than I am."

"Merlin, that's a terrifying thought," I said with a shudder. Looking down at the prone forms of Mulciber and Avery, I added, "What should we do with these two?"

"Oh, just leave them there," James said carelessly. "They might not be found for days, if we're lucky."

"Well, Avery wasn't Stunned, so he'll wake up eventually," I pointed out. "But yes, no good moving them anywhere, I suppose. It'd only be extra, unnecessary work for us."

"Couldn't have put it better myself."

We started walking back towards the Defense classroom, as my detention was almost up. "You realize you still have blood all over your face, right?" I asked Potter after a moment.

"Well, I figured this would make my return to the common room more dramatic. And you know how I love a dramatic entrance," he said with a wink.

I rolled my eyes. After a pause, and knowing full well I would probably regret asking, I said, "So, what was all that rubbish you were coming out with back there?"

"Excuse me, but I never spout rubbish."

"Right, sorry—but I mean, what you were saying to them, you know, before Mulciber punched you . . . was that—did you mean Voldemort?"

He looked at me oddly. "Yeah," he said slowly. "You know, because Snape—wait, you don't know, do you?"

"Know what?" I asked, suddenly uneasy.

"I mean, why would you, I guess? I only know because Sirius—"

"Potter—"

"But why would he tell you? He was probably expecting _me _to tell you—"

"Potter!"

"What?"

"You have five seconds to explain what the hell you're talking about, or I'll break your nose again."

James's lips twitched up slightly at that, but he soon looked solemn again, which made me even more apprehensive to hear what he had to say. "He left."

"Left," I repeated. "As in—school?"

"Yes."

"And you know this because . . ."

"Because Sirius's brother Regulus left too. And I'm not exactly sure how he—Sirius—found out about Snape, but his brother's always been a rather sore subject, so I didn't really press him for details."

"When did he tell you this?"

"Last week."

"So they—they've gone to join Voldemort." I didn't really phrase it as a question, and James just gave me a what-do-you-think look.

I couldn't figure out how the news made me feel. Somehow, knowing that Sev was actually working for Voldemort now—that he'd dropped out of school, for Merlin's sake!—made it more real and disconcerting than simply knowing the path he'd chosen would eventually lead him there.

"I'm sorry," James said quietly after a moment.

"Don't," I said, a bit sharper than I'd meant to.

"Excuse me?" James said, eyebrows raised.

"Just . . . please don't."

"I thought we already fought about this," James retorted, his voice clipped.

"I know, but—"

"And I thought we were—you know—good, as far as everything with Snape was concerned."

"No, we are, but . . . that doesn't mean I want to discuss this with you."

"Right, got it," he said, still sounding annoyed.

We walked the rest of the way to the classroom in silence. I sat down on top of one of the desks, and James leaned against the wall near the door. He crossed his arms and stared towards the front of the room. After a moment, I said, "Can I please wash the blood off your face?"

James whipped his head around to stare at me, a surprised smile jumping to his lips.

"Sorry, it's just bothering me."

"Okay—have at it."

I hopped off the desk and grabbed the sponge Galbraithe had left for the desks.

"Wait," Potter said as I walked over to him. "That has soap on it—it'll get in my mouth."

"Then close your mouth. I know it'll be hard for you," I said with a smirk.

James glared at me, but he shut his lips tightly. I scrubbed the partially dried blood off his face, feeling a bit strange as I did so. "I sort of feel like your mum or something," I said jokingly.

Potter just raised an eyebrow.

"Right, you can't talk, sorry," I said with a grin. I finished cleaning his face and glanced up again to find Potter looking at me oddly. "What?"

"Shit," he said.

"What?" I repeated, confused and a little worried.

"Er . . . nothing. I, er, should probably go—you know, so Galbraithe doesn't know I was here. So, see you back in the common room."

As he left abruptly, I wondered if I'd ever fully understand the mystery that was James Potter.

**

* * *

**

**A/N: So, I kind of pulled a cop out with the Snape leaving school thing . . . because for some reason I could not really get him to work into this story. I know, horrible, but I'm not perfect. I hope you can accept that ;)**

**As far as James's odd reaction...well, I'm gonna leave you guessing on that for a while ;)**

**And I really do not understand those couples who sit on the same side of the table. It's weird.**


	21. Lay It Down

**A/N: Extra big thank you to last week's reviewers: Cassie Weasley (nope, you hadn't reviewed yet, haha), Meeeee, Yreva13, Kiley 1 09, DarlingILoveYou, TechnoGlitter ExWhimsicalFairy, BrokenFaerie16, WobblyJelly, Evisawesome, jak23, EchoNightFall22, PoseidonsLittleGirl, emandem, swimer123, soshoryu, ottoismydog, ZoneSystems, Morgana101, marinewife08, JanistheGiant, Tabbycat270, lagirl266, MaryandMerlin, Ami Ukiyo, Alice Demer, MiTosesRTotallyRoses (love the name!), Foreverandtrulyyours, Riley, A's and B's and Gold, Elless, i3fiction, existence555, Angelaaaa, lasting illusion (hope your exams went well!), Justine, and Silver Scorpion! Btw, I've been meaning to say, you all have been breaking my record number of reviews for a single chapter (over 20) for the past few chapters now. BUT this chapter had over 30, hence the extra big thank you ;) You're all amazing!**

**Several of you correctly guessed the meaning of James's "shit" in the last chapter…for those who are curious, just read some last week's reviews. Or, you know, wait until the end of this chapter, then you'll probably have a pretty good idea ;)**

**So, with that little teaser . . .**

**

* * *

Chapter 20:** **Lay It Down**

"So, it's my birthday this Friday," James said casually at breakfast one morning.

"Congratulations," I said dryly.

He frowned at me.

"What?" I said with a smile. "What did you want me to say?"

"He wants you to gush with enthusiasm that his parents had the incredible foresight to have a shag and produce such a marvelous human being for our endless enjoyment," Sirius said, nodding knowingly at me.

James glared at his best mate. "You know, I was rather looking forward to eating my breakfast this morning, but now that you've got the image of my parents shagging in my head, I don't think that'll be an option."

"Sorry," said Sirius, not looking it in the slightest. "I suppose that is a bit of a disturbing image for you. Especially with your dad dead and all."

Mary snorted as Remus rolled his eyes. "Honestly Sirius, sometimes you are insensitive to the point of stupidity," Mary said.

"Prongs understands me," Sirius countered confidently.

"Luckily for you," Remus muttered.

"Anyway," James said with an effort to redirect the conversation. "The point of all this was to let Mary and Lily know about the party in honor of the aforementioned momentous occasion, that is, me finally coming of age."

"Merlin help us all," I said.

"I don't think they really need to be told about the party," Peter pointed out. "It'll be kind of hard to miss."

"I can only imagine," Mary said, somehow managing to sound apprehensive and excited at the same time.

"Well, it is a big deal, turning seventeen," Potter said sniffily.

"Yet you didn't see me going round announcing it to anyone who'd listen when I had my seventeenth two weeks ago," Remus said.

"Was it?" Mary said.

"Remus," I chided, hitting his arm, "you should've said something! Well, happy late birthday, anyway."

"Yes, see—Lily understands," James said. "Any normal person likes to be acknowledged on their birthday. I mean—when's yours, Evans?"

"It was January thirtieth," I replied.

"Oh," Potter said, face falling slightly. "Well, now I feel like a prick. We were even friends then and everything."

"No, don't worry about it," I said hurriedly. "Honestly, it's not a big deal."

"Now whose side is she on?" Remus said triumphantly.

James sighed. "Well, I offered to share the party with Remus, but he said—"

"—that I rather valued my dignity, actually—"

"—so, there you go," Potter finished.

"So, you're inviting us to your birthday party this Friday, is that what we should take from all that?" I asked with a grin.

"Yes," Potter said. "I mean, technically anyone who's in Gryffindor or can manage their way into our common room that night is invited, I guess, but . . ."

"We, having received a personal invitation, should feel particularly special?" Mary suggested.

"Precisely," James agreed with a smirk.

**OOOOOOOO**

So it was that Friday night found all the Gryffindor girls once again readying ourselves for a party. And this time I was, surprisingly, actually excited. In fact, I was in such a good mood that I just laughed with Mary about Marlene and Dorcas when they fretted over their appearances, instead of rolling my eyes. Additionally, I was extremely amused that their primary discussion topic—besides how much a certain skirt accentuated their curves, of course—was James, and whether they could get him drunk enough to snog one (or both) of them tonight.

"Bit sad—you know, in the self-esteem department—that they think he'd have to be drunk to fancy snogging them," I commented in a low voice to Mary as she applied her makeup and I touched up my hair in the bathroom. I'd left it down, done up in loose ringlets.

"Well, his last girlfriend was Chloe, so I suppose they think that's quite a lot to live up to," Mary replied reasonably.

At that I _did _roll my eyes. "So she was perfect-looking, so what? Anyway, I feel a bit torn about the whole thing," I added seriously, causing Mary to pause in applying mascara to look at me in the mirror. "One the one hand, I feel I'm morally obligated—as his friend, you know—to warn Potter of their plots to get him drunk and take advantage of him. Especially since it's his birthday. But then . . . well, it would be quite hilarious to witness."

Mary and I shared a grin before exiting the bathroom so Marlene and Dorcas could have their turn.

"I mean, it's been ages—well, three months, anyway—he's got to be over her by now, right?" Marlene was saying, and I could only assume they were referring to Potter and Chloe.

"She did dump him, though," Dorcas pointed out. "And he hasn't started seeing anyone else yet, even though you know Chloe only chucked him because—"

"Shh!" Marlene hissed, and both girls poked their heads out of the bathroom to glance at Mary and I. When I raised my eyebrows at them, they turned bright red and hurriedly faced the mirror again.

"What was that about?" I muttered to Mary, who just shrugged. "Anyway, is Andrew stopping by again, like at New Year's?"

"I think so—I gave him the password today at lunch. He said he's heard a lot of non-Gryffindors are coming, actually."

"It only figures that Potter's birthday would be bigger than the ushering in of a new year," I said dryly as we descended the dormitory stairs.

And indeed, the common room was already incredibly crowded, even though it was only nine. But before I could spot Potter to wish him a happy birthday, Chloe came practically sprinting up to me.

"Lily, I need to talk to you," she said seriously.

Completely taken aback, I just stared at her.

Mary spared her a raised eyebrow before saying to me, "I've spotted Andrew—see you in a bit?"

I nodded, and was just about to reply to Chloe when A.J. appeared beside me.

"You're looking smashingly beautiful tonight, Lil," he said, kissing my cheek. Then, noticing my companion, he reddened slightly. "Oh, hey Chloe."

"Hi A.J., how're you?" she said in what I thought was an impressively normal voice, considering they were exes. I mean, it had been a couple years, but still. I didn't think I'd ever be able to confront an ex with such cool collectedness. Not that I'd ever _had _an ex, but that's beside the point.

"Er, fine," A.J. replied, but Chloe wasn't really paying attention to him anymore.

Looking back at me, she said, "So?"

"Right, of course." I turned to A.J. "I'll, er, be right back."

And leaving him looking somewhat nonplussed, Chloe and I exited the common room. After we'd gone a few feet down the corridor, she turned to face me again. "I know I haven't been the nicest person to you this year," she started with no preamble whatsoever. "Truth is, I was jealous of you."

_No, really?_ I thought sarcastically. But outwardly I just nodded and let her continue.

"It was stupid, I know—well, I mean, not really, considering—but I'm getting ahead of myself. What I meant to say is, I'm sorry. It was wrong of me to be so horrible to you."

For the second time that night, she shocked me into silence. Instantly, I felt a bit horrible myself, having always treated her with scornful disdain. "That's—that's descent of you to say, Chloe," I said finally, "but really, don't worry about it; it's f—"

"He's never told you, has he?" she interrupted abruptly.

"Er, who hasn't told me what?"

"James," Chloe said a little exasperatedly. _Well, sorry if I can't read your mind_, I thought defensively, but her next words froze any sarcastic remarks in my throat. "How he feels about you."

_Come again?_ "What?"

Chloe nodded. "That's what I thought. I didn't think you were the kind of person to just toy with his feelings by dating someone else."

I nearly laughed at that. The thought of me 'toying' with anyone's feelings, especially Potter's . . .

"Anyway, I just thought you should know—he really likes you, and that's why we broke up." After an awkward pause, Chloe said, "Right, so, I'll—see you around." And she turned to re-enter the common room.

_Okay, _what _just happened? Potter, have feelings for me? Ridiculous. I mean, he laughed in the face of those rumors on the very night he and Chloe broke up! And no one's that good an actor. Plus, he basically admitted to me not long ago that he set A.J. and I up. And this is Potter we're talking about—he wouldn't exactly hesitate to confess something like that. Would he?_ I was suddenly uncertain. _He would if he thought you'd reject him outright_, a small part of my brain offered. Which, if I was being perfectly honest, is exactly what I'd do, even if he were to come out right now and say it. Was that heartless? Probably. But I knew Potter and I weren't right for each other, and I wouldn't pretend otherwise just to spare his feelings. I mean, I'd barely gotten used to the idea of us being friends, and while I liked it well enough, this was just too much for me. _Damn it, Potter, why do you always have to complicate things?_ I thought, knowing that it was awful to blame him, but unable to help it.

I sighed, leaning against the wall. _God, I really, _really_ hope Chloe's wrong. Although, what reason would she have to lie to me about this?_ Before I could answer myself, the portrait hole swung open and I looked over to see A.J. stepping into the corridor.

"You _are_ still out here," he said, frowning. "I saw Chloe come back in, but . . . what did she want, anyway?"

"Nothing," I said, hitching what I hoped was a normal smile onto my face and walking over to meet him. Kissing him swiftly on the lips, I said, "Let's get this party started, shall we?"

A.J. grinned. "Right-o."

Almost immediately upon entering the common room, I spotted Potter with the other Marauders by the fire . . . and I promptly turned bright red at the sight of him. I wished again that Chloe hadn't told me anything; much as she'd thought she was doing me a favor, I knew I'd never be able to face Potter again without thinking about that conversation. _I'll just have to confront him about it,_ I thought determinedly. But picturing myself asking him about his feelings for me only made me blush harder. _This is not good_.

"Let's get something to drink," I suddenly suggested to A.J. 'Liquid courage,' Mary had always called it. Well, I certainly needed some of that right now. And, as most people who used alcohol to that purpose, I would live to regret it.

Grabbing a cup of that special 'punch' Potter spoke so highly of, I gulped it down quickly, not really wanting to taste it. A.J. raised his eyebrows as I finished.

"For a non-drinker, you're sure doing a good impression of it," he commented, lips twisting into a smile.

I turned to refill my cup. "And you are one drink behind," I returned with a mischievous wink.

"What about the snogging game?" A.J. asked as he obligingly filled his own cup.

"I guess everyone else will just have to play it about us," I said, stepping closer and looking up at A.J. coyly from under my eyelashes.

His eyes widened slightly. "That alcohol's sure taking effect quickly," he joked.

I threw back my second drink just as someone turned on the music. "Wanna dance?" I asked as I set down my cup.

"Okay, one second," A.J. replied, quickly downing his own drink. Taking my hand, he pulled me into the middle of the cleared space currently serving as a make-shift dance floor.

**OOOOOOOO**

A few hours and several glasses of 'punch'—which was rather aptly named, I thought, as it did pack quite a punch—later, and A.J. and I weren't so much dancing as stumbling around the floor. It would have been embarrassing, except that we were hardly the only couple doing so. Besides, in addition to reducing my sense of balance, the punch had also dulled my self-consciousness considerably.

As the latest song ended, I asked A.J. breathlessly, "You wanna sit down for a while?"

He nodded gratefully and we (somehow) made our way over to the only empty couch by the fire. Two were occupied by students who'd succumbed to the copious amounts of alcohol they'd consumed—I was amused to see that one of them was Peter Pettigrew—and the third was taken up by a passionately kissing couple.

I wrinkled my nose and turned to comment on this to A.J., but was interrupted by his lips, which he chose at that moment to press to mine. _And hypocritical Lily strikes again_, I thought as I moved my mouth against his. _Oh well_.

"Evans, I'd tell you to get a room, except I have doubts about your ability to climb stairs at the moment," a mocking voice said from above us.

Pulling away from A.J., it was a couple seconds before my eyes brought the smirking face of Sirius Black fully into focus. "Right, Black, because you're really one to talk—I'm surprised your lips aren't similarly engaged right now."

Sirius raised an eyebrow. "I beg to differ—I mean, A.J.'s good-looking and all, but I don't fancy blokes, Evans."

I attempted to swat his arm, but my aim was a little off, so the back of my hand connected with air. "You know what I meant," I scoffed, pretending I didn't notice when Sirius smirked again at my lack of coordination.

"I don't feel so good," A.J. said suddenly.

"Yeah, the thought of snogging Black will do that to you," I said with a snort. But, upon turning to look at my boyfriend, I saw that he was, indeed, slightly green. "Oh, you meant—"

But before I could finish the sentence, A.J. shot up from the couch and hurried away, presumably to find something to throw up in. I winced in sympathy, but didn't make any move to follow him—the couch was just too comfortable. Looking up at Sirius again, I asked, "Am I a horrible girlfriend if I stay here instead of making sure he's okay?"

"Probably. But what do I know about such things?" he said with a wink, helping himself to A.J.'s vacated seat.

"Hey," I said hurriedly, scooting away from him. "I never said you could sit here."

"Aw, come on, Evans, we're friends, aren't we?" Sirius asked, slinging an arm over my shoulders.

I crossed my arms and didn't answer, but I didn't make a move to shove his arm away, either. "So, point of interest," I said after a moment, "why aren't you off snogging some random girl right now?"

Sirius pretended to look affronted. "Is that all you think I aspire to do at parties?"

I just raised an eyebrow.

Sirius grinned. "Ah, you know me well, Evans. And I must say, with how much I assume you've drunk, based on your general lack of balance, you're still impressively coherent."

"And you're evading the question."

"You, my friend, need another drink," Sirius pronounced, and while I didn't miss the fact that he still hadn't answered my question, I let him head for the drinks table.

Almost as though he'd been waiting for Sirius to leave, James immediately plopped down beside me. "Evans, how it is—is it—that I've—that I haven' seen you all night?"

"Maybe you have, but you're just too drunk to remember," I suggested mildly, noting his slurred speech. I was pleased to note that the alcohol had done what I'd intended it to—even though my memory of the conversation with Chloe was definitely still strong, I didn't feel embarrassed around Potter at all.

He laughed. "Oh, I am har'ly _that _drunk, my dear, trust me."

"Whatever you say, love," I said lightly, cringing inwardly as the last word left my mouth—_a little too much liquid courage, I guess._

James snorted. "Spik-speaking of drunk, since when've you called me 'love'?"

"Since—well—okay, fine, since I've had four glasses of 'punch' in the past hour," I said, blushing.

"Good stuff, i'n it?"

"After the second drink or so, it starts to taste pretty good, yeah," I agreed with a smirk. "Oh—Merlin, I can't believe this isn't the first thing I said when you sat down—happy birthday!"

Potter grinned. "Thanks, Evans."

Sirius returned at that moment with a cup for me and one for himself.

James raised his eyebrows. "Padfoot's your enabler? Better watch yourself, Evans."

"'Enabler' implies I have a problem, Potter."

He just grinned back at me.

**OOOOOOOO**

And that is my last (basically) clear memory for the next couple hours. I don't know if Sirius added something to my drink—wouldn't put it past him, the prick—or if the mere fact that it was my fifth one of the night put me over the edge, but the next thing I remember is stumbling up to Remus, giggling uncontrollably. He was, to my delight, talking to Carin again, the Ravenclaw girl I'd teased him about on New Year's.

"Lily," Remus greeted me with a slightly amused smile, as I grabbed onto his arm to keep from falling over.

"Sooooo," I said, drawing out the word and glancing in what I thought was a surreptitious yet significant way at Carin.

"So . . ." Remus repeated, though in a more confused way. "You've had a lot to drink," he added conversationally.

For some reason this struck me as incredibly funny, setting me off into the giggles again. Remus's grin widened, though I wasn't too sloshed to notice that Carin was looking increasingly uncomfortable.

Once I got myself under control, I decided it was important I clear things up for her. Releasing Remus's arm—I still managed to stay on my feet, which I was quite proud of—I said, "Don' worry, we're jus' friends," I told her. "I mean, e'en when I said I'd kiss him at the No—New Year's . . . thingy, he just . . . y'know . . . didn't. And it was a joke anyway, this—that—the thing I said." Even I could tell I wasn't making any sense. Carin now looked confused in addition to apprehensive, while Remus no longer looked amused. At all.

"Lily," he started with forced pleasantness, "maybe you should—"

"I'm jus' makin' sure she knows y-you fancy her and . . . and not me," I explained.

At that, Carin turned bright red, mumbled something about getting another drink, and practically ran away.

Now Remus looked downright angry. "Thanks, Lily."

"What? I was just—" Suddenly, a thought struck me, and I called out after Carin, "Hey! You're not just leaving 'cause he's a wer—"

Remus clapped a hand sharply over my mouth. "What the hell is wrong with you?" he demanded in a harsh whisper.

I tried to look abashed, but my drunken side once again found the situation inexplicably hilarious, and I felt my lips start to turn up in a grin.

Remus snorted derisively. "Well, I can see why you don't drink," he said contemptuously, turning away.

"Remus—" I started, the horror at what I'd almost said beginning to penetrate my sluggish, alcohol-logged mind.

He whipped around quickly, grabbing my arm roughly. "Don't. Just . . . stay away from me," he said, shoving me back slightly as he released my arm.

Shocked at such hostility from Remus, I could only stare after him for a bit as he stalked angrily away. Knowing I had to fix what I'd done, however, I started after him, shouting "Wait, Remus, I—" But I was interrupted as I tripped spectacularly over a bunched up bit of the rug in front of the fire, knocked into a table, and landed sprawled on my stomach. I could feel my face redden as several people around me roared with laughter. A moment later, I felt a tug on my arm, and looked up to find Potter helping me to my feet. I was grateful to see that he wasn't laughing—I mean, he might have been initially, but I appreciated him not doing it to my face, at least.

He led me over to the couch we'd been sitting on before, and the irony of it being the location where all this mess had started was not lost on me, plastered as I was.

"You okay?" he asked, his face swimming in and out of focus.

"Yeah."

Potter flashed me a quick grin. "Okay, hang on—I'll get you some water."

I must have passed out for a bit, because the next thing I remember is waking up to an empty common room, save for James, seated beside me, head leaning against the back of the couch and eyes closed. "Potter?" I said tentatively, wondering if he was awake.

His head jerked up immediately, and he grinned at me. "Good, you're conscious again."

"Did you—where did everyone go?"

"I kicked 'em out a while ago," he replied, shrugging.

"_You_—and they listened?" I asked incredulously. I was starting to become aware of the fact that I felt like I'd been trampled by a stampeding hippogriff. My shin was throbbing from where it had connected with the table, a dull ache had settled behind my eyes, and my stomach was rolling unpleasantly.

"It was my party, wasn't it?" James said in answer to my question.

I just nodded, not really caring how he'd gotten rid of everyone, but glad that he had. "And now you're . . ."

"Well, I figured it would be poor form for me—as host, you know—to leave before making sure everyone that had passed out was okay," he said with a wink.

"And that group consisted of just me, I take it?"

"Oh no, of course not," Potter said, frowning at me like I was crazy to even suggest such a thing. "It's not a good party unless there are at least five in that number. I'm happy to say that this time we generated eight—a new record, I think."

"How wonderful," I said dryly, leaning my head back and taking deep slow breaths to try and calm my churning stomach. Bits of the night were starting to slowly come back, and as there was one part I definitely didn't want to focus on right now, I said instead, "Can I ask you something before I get too sober again?"

Potter raised an eyebrow. "How could I say no to that? I like your hair like that, by the way—I meant to tell you earlier, though I suppose it wouldn't have made a difference, since you probably would've forgotten it anyway."

Momentarily thrown, I didn't answer. Why was he being so nice? Staying with me after I passed out to make sure I was okay, complimenting my hair, and not teasing me at all about getting pissed out of my mind like I'd expected. _Better enjoy it while it lasts_, I thought bitterly. Because once he found out what I'd almost done, I was willing to bet he wouldn't feel so kindly towards me.

"Anyway, I interrupted you, sorry—you were saying?"

"Right . . . er, so Chloe talked to me earlier tonight." I stopped, trying to decide how to phrase the next part. "And she—well, I mean I knew you two broke up because she thought there was something going on with us, or whatever. But then tonight she told me"—and here I looked away from Potter, sober enough to be embarrassed about what I was going to ask—"that she wasn't completely crazy, and that you . . . er, you know."

"Fancied you?" James asked, to my surprise. "Yeah, I . . . er, sort of let her believe that, because I didn't want her to know it was actually because I was just sick of dating her and welcomed the chance to end it."

I did look at him then, frowning in disappointment that he'd been so horrible to Chloe, used as I'd become to him being less of a prick than that. At least, that's why I told myself I was disappointed.

"I know," Potter said, wrinkling his nose as he correctly interpreted my reaction. "That was a pretty crap thing of me to do. But, well, let bygones be bygones, right? Or whatever it is."

I smiled. "Something like that, yeah." My stomach gave a sudden lurch, and I sat up straight, hand over my mouth.

"Shit," Potter muttered, scrambling over the side of the couch for a rubbish bin. Pulling out the bag of trash, he thrust the empty bin under my face just in time for me to throw up into it. With his free hand, Potter held my hair back so it wouldn't get vomit on it. When I was finished, he pulled out his wand, Vanished the mess I'd made, and handed me a glass of water that had been sitting on the table.

Vaguely remembering him saying something about getting it for me before I'd passed out, I drank it gratefully to rid my mouth of the acrid taste. "Sorry, that was gross."

James shrugged. "Nothing I haven't seen before."

I gave him a considering look. Finally, I asked, "Why are you being so nice? It's kind of weirding me out. Like the balance of the universe has been upset, or something."

Potter laughed. "Well, I guess it's because I feel a little guilty—I mean, I'm the one who teased you about not drinking."

I snorted. "Trust me, Potter, you had nothing to do with what happened tonight." My insides twisted again, though this time not with nausea. I was glad when Potter distracted me by speaking again.

"Plus, with A.J. . . . incapacitated rather early on, I figured I'd step into the—" He stopped abruptly.

"Act as my boyfriend substitute for the night?" I supplied jokingly. But when I turned to grin at him, I found James looking at me oddly.

"Lily," he started.

"Yes?" I prompted, almost in a whisper, my heart suddenly beating faster.

James seemed to teeter on the edge of saying something, and when he finally spoke, I had a feeling he'd decided against his original words. "You should probably get to bed."

I sighed as I craned my neck to contemplate the dormitory stairs. "But that would involve standing."

Potter grinned, all trace of his strange expression gone. "Take it from me, you'll feel much better if you wake up in your bed tomorrow."

Sighing again, I reluctantly dragged myself to my feet, letting James take my arm to lead me to the girls' stairs. We came to a stop at its base, and I looked back at Potter. "Well, thanks for taking care of me," I said.

"My pleasure," he replied with a smirk.

"And I hope you had a good birthday."

"It was rather enjoyable, thanks." We stood in silence a moment longer, before James said, "Good night."

"'Night James," I said, the name out of my mouth before I'd actually planned to say it.

James raised his eyebrows, grinning, but didn't say anything as he turned to climb the stairs to his dormitory.

**

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**A/N: There you go, another cute moment ;) Consider it a Christmas present. And, on that note, to whom it may apply—Merry/Happy (early) Christmas! Hope everyone has a lovely holiday!**

**(Random side note: Any LaT fans out there? B/c I don't know about you, but I am DYING for an update!)**


	22. Hopeless

**A/N: Thanks a bundle to last week's reviewers: Meeeee, steel-trap, SeriouslySiriusBlack, Howl To The Moon, marinewife08 (jealous of your trip to HP world!), .forever2116, nobody, EnvyMyMidnight, NathyMoon, swimer123, Cassie Weasley, Miss larien, existence555, Will Write For Food, jak23, WobblyJelly, movinggirl, ottoismydog, PoseidonsLittleGirl, emotionsonhold, 28, MaryandMerlin, BrokenFaerie16, i3fiction, ZoneSystems, birchermuesli, AliLusAlliSirius, EchoNightFall22, Tabbycat270, Marauder'sGirlCuzI'mUp2NoGood, Ami Ukiyo, and Elless!**

**This update is dedicated to Meeeee, who promised to love me forever if I updated today…I mean, how could I turn that down ;)**

**Also, a couple of you asked was LaT was…did I convert anyone?**

**Finally, lots of you have confessed to being sick of A.J., and thus I feel I must apologize in advance for the end of this chapter . . . .**

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Chapter 21:** **Hopeless**

There's something wonderful about those few seconds when you're transitioning from sleep to wakefulness. It's a sense of complete bliss, where anything stupid or horrible you might have done the night before is kept at bay. But it can never last, of course—you always have to wake up.

If I hadn't almost announced to an entire roomful of people that Remus was a werewolf, it wouldn't have been that bad of a morning, considering. I woke up without any trace of last night's headache and only a slight twinge of nausea in my stomach. My limbs felt extra heavy, similar to the feeling you get when you've got a bad head cold. But other than that, any trace of a hangover (based on what I'd gathered from watching other people experience them) was virtually non-existent.

It was only as I glanced over at Mary's empty bed that I realized I'd hardly seen her last night. Marlene and Dorcas were still sleeping—neither had bothered to change out of their party clothes, I was amused to note. Hoping to run into my best friend before I met . . . certain others, I started downstairs to the common room. Remus's angry voice made me pause just out of sight at the foot of the stairs.

"—understand what she almost did!"

"Of course I understand, Moony," Sirius replied, voice equally harsh. "I haven't forgotten last year," he said, bitter self-loathing coloring his tone now.

"Well, then perhaps you also recall that I barely spoke to you for a month," Remus shot back. "And you only told one person. She almost told about a hundred, so—"

"And you don't think that wouldn't have happened last year if Snape hadn't miraculously stayed quiet about it? The whole bloody _school _would have—"

"Okay," James's voice cut in. "I don't think it's really helping matters to talk about last year. Though I think the point Padfoot is trying to make is that you _did _forgive him eventually, even though—"

"I don't care!" Remus shouted, and I leaned forward ever so slightly to try and glimpse his face. I wasn't sure why I needed to actually see him—it was pretty obvious he was royally pissed at me.

It didn't matter anyway, because his back was to me. Sirius was on his right, standing so that I could only make out his profile, but James was across from Remus, facing me. He looked over as my head appeared around the doorframe, and our eyes met briefly before I backed out of sight once more. I didn't care that James knew I was listening, but I hadn't wanted his distracted gaze to draw the others' attention.

"Look, Lily's your mate, right?" Sirius was saying as I refocused on the conversation.

I winced as I heard Remus snort derisively.

"I think you're being a bit stupid about all this, Moony." That was James again.

"_I'm _being—" Remus started indignantly. Then he sighed in frustration. "You don't understand—you've known me for six years, and you still don't get it."

"Oh, come on, Moony—you're acting like—and, he's gone," Sirius muttered. There was the sound of someone flopping into a chair, and then James's voice called out:

"Cost is clear, Evans."

I emerged from my hiding spot, feeling a little foolish, but mostly more depressed than I'd been when I woke up.

Copying Sirius's actions, I slumped down on the couch across from him, noting the small grin he flashed me with some surprise—I certainly couldn't find anything to smile about right now. Then again, he _was _Sirius.

"So, how're you feeling?" he asked in a teasing voice.

"I'm assuming you're referring to the alcohol part of the evening and not . . . the other thing—and, to answer that, surprisingly fine, actually."

"She threw up last night," James put in helpfully.

"Lucky," Sirius muttered, and I would have laughed if I'd been anywhere near capable of it. "Best cure for a hangover, I've always said."

We were silent a moment longer, and then I had to ask, "It's really bad, isn't it?"

Neither Sirius nor James had to ask what I meant, but neither answered right away, either.

"He'll snap out of it," Sirius finally said, though he didn't sound entirely confident.

I sighed. "Well, thanks for defending me—honestly, I probably don't deserve it. Nor did I expect it, come to that." It really had come as a shock to find that Sirius and James were on my side about this, especially James—he was the one who was always so defensive when it came to Remus and his . . . affliction.

"Hey, now, none of that self-pitying business," Sirius said, his voice teasing once more. "Take it from me—that won't get you anywhere. Actually, I kind of feel like we have a bond now, you know, since I—"

"Not helping, Sirius," I interrupted, glaring at him.

"Right, sorry," he said. "Guess I still need to work on that sensitivity stuff, huh?" Glancing at James, who hadn't spoken except to comment on my upchuck reflexes, Sirius added, "Well, I should probably go check on Pete—make sure he's still alive. See you at breakfast?" This was directed mostly at James, who nodded.

As Sirius disappeared up the boys' dormitory staircase, James finally sat down, taking the empty space on the couch next to me. "Déjà vu, huh?" he commented with a slight smirk.

This was, in fact, the same couch I'd passed out on last night. But as I turned to make a joking reply, I found I couldn't speak past the lump that had suddenly formed in my throat. I swallowed hard several times to get rid of it, but it remained painfully stuck, along with the image of Remus stalking angrily from the common room. Seeing my expression, James gave me a one-armed hug, and I automatically laid my head on his shoulder.

"It'll be all right—I promise," he said quietly, and though I knew it was a ridiculous thing to promise, it made me feel better anyway.

Just then, I spotted A.J. descending the boys' stairs. I immediately sat up straight, while James pulled his arm back and moved subtly away from me. I felt my cheeks burn as A.J. neared us, embarrassed by my reaction. It's not like James and I had anything to hide, right? Since I didn't really trust myself to answer that question, I settled for pushing it to the back of my mind for now—I know, fabulous strategy of mine, isn't it?

James moved further away to leave A.J. room to sit between us. "Some night, huh?" he said with a grin as he sat down, giving me a quick kiss in greeting.

"You're more cheerful than I'd expected, Rookie," James observed, raising his eyebrows.

"Guess Sirius was right about puking as a hangover cure after all," I said thoughtfully. Turning to A.J., I added, "And, er, while we're on the subject, I feel like I should apologize for ditching you."

"Do I look mad?" he replied with a wink.

"Well, no, but you know my conscience won't let me rest until I've done the right thing," I replied with exaggerated innocence, eliciting a laugh from A.J. and a snort from James. Narrowing my eyes at the latter, I said, "I don't think you have the right to ridicule me here, Mr. Prongs."

James cocked an eyebrow briefly at my use of his Marauder nickname, but he merely smiled in response. Something seemed a little off about it, though, but before I could figure out what it was, A.J. continued, "Still, I'm sorry I missed the rest of the night—rumor has it you were fairly entertaining, Lil." He smirked at me.

"Merlin, there are rumors already—that's not good," I said, surprising myself with how normal I sounded—nothing would suggest I'd single-handedly destroyed one of my friendships beyond repair. I stood up again and offered A.J. my hand. "Breakfast?" I proposed.

"Best meal of the day, I've always thought," he replied, letting me pull him to his feet.

"Join us?" I added to James.

He shook his head. "I said I'd wait for Sirius, remember?"

This wasn't strictly true, and I wondered if he was avoiding us on purpose. Quickly shaking that thought and deciding I was probably just reading too much into things, as usual, I shrugged and said, "Okay, well, see you later, then."

A.J. looked at me slyly as we cleared the portrait hole. "So—you going to share the details with me, or will I have to pursue the rumor mill further?"

"Having had sufficient experience with rumors—both personally and as a side effect of living with Marlene and Dorcas—I know enough to realize I'll regret it less if I tell you first." I paused, trying to decide where to begin. "Well, I definitely tripped over a table and landed on my face in front of everyone, so that's probably in there. Of course, there's also an hour or so where I don't remember anything—"

"And _my _experience with such things tells me you probably don't want to remember it."

_Unfortunately, the thing I don't want to remember is much worse than anything I could have done in that missing hour. _"Right," was all I said aloud. A.J. grinned, seeming satisfied with the minimal detail I'd supplied. I was once again surprised with myself—usually I was a horrible liar, especially when it came to hiding something. But before I could congratulate myself, we turned down a staircase only to encounter Remus coming up in the other direction. A sick feeling filled my gut upon spotting him, and he glared at me so fiercely as we passed each other that I had to look away. On the verge of tears again, I was determined not to look at A.J., despite feeling his eyes on me.

"What was that about?" he demanded as soon as Remus was out of earshot. "I've never seen him that angry."

"Nothing," I replied. "I mean, we just had a—a fight." Gaining control of myself enough to meet A.J.'s gaze, I found him looking at me with an incredulous expression.

"Must have been some fight, because he looked . . . are you all right?" His voice changed abruptly from skeptical to concerned, and he pulled me around to face him.

"No," I said bluntly, pressing my thumbs to the corners of my eyes to hold back the tears there. "But I also don't really want to talk about it." _Healthy, Lily—that's always the best way to deal with problems: avoiding them._

I was glad that A.J. didn't call me out on it, though. Instead, he just squeezed my hand, kissed my forehead, and said, "Okay." And we continued towards the Great Hall.

**OOOOOOOO**

"So, on topics _not _related to Remus Lupin," my boyfriend said when we'd taken a seat at the Gryffindor table, which was in its usual post-party-mostly-empty state, "I've finally accepted the fact that OWLs are coming up."

"Ah, yes," I said with a falsely nostalgic air, "I remember well the day when I had a similar revelation. I think I tried to jump off the Astronomy tower . . ."

"What, was it the first day of fifth year?" A.J. asked with a smirk.

I smacked his arm across the table. "_No_. It was just after Christmas break," I added with a stab at dignity.

A.J. snorted.

"What?" I said defensively. "I was so prepared for those exams, I could have taken them in my sleep. If I hadn't been so paranoid I'd fail that I barely slept anyway, that is."

"I believe it," A.J. replied, this time not in a teasing tone. "Which is why I'm wondering if, as my brilliant, wonderful, and extremely attractive girlfriend, you'd help me study?"

I raised an eyebrow at him. "You should have thought of that before you started teasing me just now."

"Aw, come on, Lil, you know I can't help myself."

He sounded so much like James just then that for a moment I couldn't reply. I felt like it meant . . . something, but I couldn't grasp what exactly that something was. It was infuriating, like having a word on the tip of your tongue. But before I could devote any more speculation to it, A.J. spoke again.

"Lily? Are you really mad about that? Because I—"

Until then, I hadn't realized I'd been frowning. Smoothing my face into a smile, I said, "No, sorry—I was just . . . thinking. But to answer your question, I'd be happy to help you—key word here being _help_, without something like 'you cheat' coming after it—"

A.J. grinned. "How could you think I'd stoop so low?"

**OOOOOOOO**

I wasn't sure which part of the next week was worse: Remus practically running from a room any time I entered it, or the time he resolutely refused to work me—in front of the entire class—when Slughorn tried to pair us together in Potions, or the way James and Sirius shot me apologetic and almost pitying looks after these incidents, but I was pretty sure that now, on my way up to collect Remus for rounds, would top them all.

I actually closed my eyes briefly upon entering the common room, in order to steel myself, so I was partway towards the fireplace when I realized Remus wasn't sitting with his mates. Stopping, I scanned the room. In fact, he was no where to be seen. Continuing on my intended path, I stopped beside James's chair. "Er," I started, with no idea how to phrase the question I wanted to ask.

The three Marauders looked up at me, and I winced inwardly as I faced those same pitying expressions. "Hey Lily," Sirius started with a stab at cheerfulness.

I raised an eyebrow at him, and out of the corner of my eye I saw James do the same. "Well, if you're so optimistic, do you want to tell her?" James suggested to his friend.

"No," Sirius said hurriedly. "I think that, since Moony relayed the message to _you_, that you should—"

"Maybe Pete should do it—he hasn't had a chance to talk to Lily about this—"

"Hey, I'm not—" Peter began to protest.

"One of you had better bloody tell me whatever it is you have to tell me, or so help me Merlin, I will—"

"Okay, okay," James interrupted, grabbing my arm even though I'd made no attempt for my wand. He sighed. "Moony wanted us to tell you that he, er, doesn't want to spend any more time with you than is strictly necessary, and as you've done rounds by yourself a lot anyway—look, if you want me to try and talk to him again—"

"No, it's all right," I said tiredly. Deep down, I'd been expecting something like this, but that didn't make it any easier to bear. Turning to leave, I soon came to a stop again—James still had a hold on my arm. I looked back at him questioningly, but I knew what he was going to ask before he opened his mouth. "It's all right," I repeated, ignoring the somewhat bemused look Peter and Sirius exchanged, "you don't have to—"

"I don't mind," James assured me. When I didn't answer, he finally released my arm and said, "Here, at least take this." Reaching into his bag, he pulled out a blank piece of parchment and offered it to me.

I took it slowly, confused. "What, in case I want to write Remus an apology letter, since he apparently isn't going to let me apologize in person?"

James sighed and shook his head. "Honestly, Evans, I thought you were supposed to be bright."

Glancing up to see Sirius and Peter looking almost scandalized at James, comprehension dawned. Automatically, I reached out to hand the Map back. "No, I don't—I mean, isn't this, like, as precious as your first-born child?"

James smirked. "Are you kidding? I'd sell my first-born for something that good, if I hadn't already used my own brilliance to make it." Sirius cleared his throat significantly, frowning at his best mate. "Okay, if I hadn't _shared _my brilliance to make it," James amended.

"Well . . . thanks," I said finally.

"If you lose that, Evans, or if you get it confiscated—" Sirius began with an alarmingly threatening look in his eyes.

"Yes, yes, Black—you'll kill me in my sleep—" I stopped abruptly. Hadn't we had a conversation like this before? Ah, yes, when the Marauders had threatened me about telling anyone Remus was a werewolf . . . gotta love the irony of that, right?

The others seemed to remember this as well, because suddenly none of us could look at each other. "So, I'll just—just bring this back when I'm . . ." I trailed off, and no one stopped me this time as I made for the portrait hole.

I waited until I'd climbed a couple of flights down before ducking behind a tapestry and unfolding the Map. Feeling a bit foolish, I pulled out my wand. Tapping the parchment, I whispered, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good." Smiling wryly to myself—_never thought those words would cross my lips_—I watched the inky Map appear before me. Lighting my wand tip, I scanned the myriad of corridors for the tiny dot labeled 'Remus Lupin.' Thankfully, my search was over fairly quickly as I spotted him moving along the third floor outside of our Charms classroom. Darkening my wand once more, I pointed it at the Map, intending to wipe it clean, and froze. I had no idea how to return the parchment to its (deceptively) innocent blank state.

Eventually, I settled for folding it up, stuffing it into a pocket, and praying that I wouldn't run into Filch—I mean, I _was _supposed to be on rounds, but the man could smell mischief from a mile away. Or at least, Mrs. Norris could.

As I neared the place where the Map had shown Remus, I pulled it out again to check whether he'd moved. Before I could find him on the Map, however, he found me in person.

"What are you doing?" a harsh voice demanded, and I looked up to see Remus striding towards me. My heart jumped fearfully at the hostility in his eyes, though I supposed I should be used to it after a week.

"I—" I started, realizing that I hadn't actually planned anything to say on my way to find him.

"Is that—" Remus continued angrily, eyes flicking to the Marauder's Map in my right hand. I tried to shift it behind my back, but Remus grabbed it from me before I could do so. "Oh my God," he said in livid disbelief, "how could they—this is just getting—I can't believe they let _you_—"

"Well, as you haven't let me speak to you for the past week, I really didn't have many options left!" I retorted testily, regretting it instantly. Biting my lip, I added, "Sorry, that wasn't—I didn't come here to yell at you, obviously—"

"And it never occurred to you that maybe I didn't _want _to talk to you?" Remus interjected, ignoring the second half of what I'd said.

_Yes, actually I _had _realized that_. But since sarcastic comments were hardly going to help my case at the moment, I held it back. "Will you at least let me apol—"

Remus snorted derisively. "And what good do you think that will do?"  
"It—well, I don't know, but what else can I do, Remus? I'm so incredibly, terribly sorry, and if I could take it back, or have a—a redo or something, I would—"

"Well, you can't, can you?"

I didn't answer, because he was exactly (and painfully) right. I couldn't take back what I'd done. "Right," I finally said softly.

Remus waited a beat to see if I would say anything else before shoving the Map back into my hands. "In case you feel like tracking down any other friends you've betrayed lately," he explained scornfully.

After I was sure he was well out of earshot—I watched him on the Map until he'd descended to the floor below—I sat down against the wall and let the tears that had built up over the week finally fall. What hurt the most was the realization I'd just come to: the hateful looks Remus had directed at me since the incident at James's party reminded me forcibly of the way Sev looked the first time I'd caught him and Mulciber conspiring together. The thought that I might have messed up my friendship with Remus just as badly was nearly unbearable to consider.

I continued rounds in a daze, using the Marauder's Map to deliberately avoid Remus, which I figured was only fair at this point. It probably _hadn't _been the best move to use the secret Map he'd created with his best mates to track him down. But like I'd told him, what choice had I had?

When I finally returned to the common room, James was the only Marauder left by the fireplace. Somewhat to my surprise, he was engrossed in his Transfiguration homework, so much so that he didn't notice me until I'd stopped directly in front of him and dropped the Map on his open book. "You never told me how to clear it," I said by way of greeting.

"Oh, right," James said, his eyebrows jumping together briefly. "So, er, dare I ask how it went?" he added as he pulled out his wand. "Mischief managed," he muttered, and the Map became a nondescript piece of parchment once more.

"Nope," I said, with a stab at indifference as I sat down on the table across from James.

I knew he wasn't fooled, but was glad when all he said was, "Mary was looking for you. I think she's in your dormitory."

"Okay, thanks," I said, but I made no move to rise from the table, even though I'd barely seen my best friend all day.

James smiled slightly and started writing again.

I watched him work for a moment before commenting, "You know, I've never seen you actually apply yourself to homework like this. I'm not sure whether to be impressed or disturbed."

"Well, I'm planning on skiving off Transfiguration tomorrow, so I thought the least I could do was get a head start on the homework."

I raised an eyebrow. "I see. Any particular reason you're skipping class?"

James shrugged. "I make a point to skip at least once a month—healthy, you know?"

"Not really. But then, I hardly ever understand you, anyway."

"It's what makes us such good friends."

I laughed. "That makes absolutely no sense."

James grinned. "Well, it made you laugh, which is really all I was going for."

I stared at him, surprised. "Oh. I—um . . . thanks. Well, I'll—I'll see you in class tom—no, wait, I guess I won't, will I?"

"You'll make it through all right without me?" James asked solemnly.

"I imagine so," I said with a smirk. But as I turned away, it morphed into a frown. Something was definitely . . . off, with James acting so nice to me. I mean, he'd actually displayed _thoughtfulness_ just now! Before I could contemplate it much further, I was met with a more-than-slightly-irate Mary as I pushed open the door to our dormitory.

"Oh, hello," she said with false brightness. "I'm Mary, your best friend—you might remember me?"

I sighed as I plopped down on the edge of my bed. "Sorry, I know I've sort of ignored you lately, but I've been busy ruining another friendship—it's quite time-consuming, actually."

Mary instantly softened and came to sit beside me. "Lily, I'm sorry—of course you've been preoccupied; I didn't mean to accuse you—"

"No, I know you didn't." Sighing again, I leaned my head on my friend's shoulder. She scratched my back comfortingly, and after a few minutes of silence, I sat up again. "In other news, Potter's acting . . . strange." And I told her what had just happened by the fire.

Mary frowned when I'd finished. "Sorry, I'm missing the strange part of that."

"Come on—he's never that nice!"

"He was just trying to cheer you up. Don't tell me you're complaining?"

"Well no . . . and I guess it is the 'friendly' thing to do, but . . . I don't know, it just felt weird to me, somehow."

"And overthinking Lily rears her ugly head once again," Mary said, standing up from my bed and starting to change into her pajamas.

"Yeah, I've really got to work on her," I said as I followed suit.

**OOOOOOOO**

Tuesday evening found A.J. and I spending some quality alone time together . . . in the library . . . working on homework. Hey, sometimes you have no choice if you want to be with your significant other and also have cruel Professors who find sadistic pleasure in handing out loads of work.

"This is insane," A.J. commented after we'd been working quietly for nearly half an hour. He was writing out his Potions notes again—something I'd recommended as a study strategy. It took a long time, sure, but I'd found it to be more helpful than just reading through them a zillion times.

"Mhmm," I agreed from where I was stretched out on the couch—yes there were couches in the library, who knew? And here I'd foolishly spent almost six years studying in uncomfortably hard chairs; granted, it had probably motivated me to finish my work faster. But I had to admit, lying with my head propped up on A.J.'s knee and my legs bent to support my Charms book was a pretty relaxing way to do homework.

"How can they possibly expect me to learn all this?"

"Because they believe in your brilliant genius," I said tilting my head slightly to smile up at him.

He just snorted in return. "Well, they're unfairly optimistic, then," he said resentfully.

"You'll do fine."

"Easy for you to say—you probably got all O's, didn't you?"

"No," I scoffed.

"Okay, so, what—one E?"

"Two," I said primly.

That did make A.J. smile, but it didn't stop him from pleading, "Can I borrow your brain for O.W.L.s?"

"What part of 'you'll be fine' didn't you understand?"

"I appreciate your support, but it still doesn't erase the possibility that I'll fail."

"Fine. But at least take comfort in the fact that I'll be the one acting like a mentally deranged person this time next year, and you'll get to attempt to assure me that the world isn't about to come to an end." Frowning, I added, "That didn't come out sounding very comforting, did—"

"You think we'll still be dating in a year?" A.J. interrupted, his voice carefully casual.

I hadn't really noticed I was implying just that, but instead of answering the question, I asked "Don't you?"

"I certainly hope so, because—" He stopped, and so did the scratching of his quill. I bent my head back to look at him again, and was surprised to find him gazing at me intently. "Lily, I love you."

**

* * *

A/N: Return of the cliffhangers! Hmm, sounds like a bad parody….anyway, hope everyone has a fab new year—party it up, kiss a stranger, but don't accidentally tell your friend's biggest secret to the world (take it from Lily, that never goes over well ****;).**


	23. All About the Love

**A/N: Thanks to last week's reviewers (almost hit 40 this time!): Meeeee, NathyMoony, peridot82697, TechnoGlitter ExWhimsicalFairy, AliLuvsAlliSirius, dancer987, EchoNightFall22, Dancethroughlife, angelofdarknessburningflame, Kiley 1 09, WobblyJelly, i3fiction, jak23, GiantPurpleRing, kikicakes XD, ottoismydog, skazmi, theycallherkaush, emotionsonhold, Evisawesome, Silver Scorpion, DarlingILoveYou, .forever2116, Tabbycat270, MinisterKingsley, Spot123, steel-trap, Marinewife08, Ami Ukiyo, SeriouslySiriusBlack, MaryandMerlin, Sunset on Heartache, Elless, PoseidonsLittleGirl, angiedotdotla, BrokenFaerie16, vampire5596, and teteeee!**

**Hope you all had a lovely New Year, and did something cool on 1/1/11 ;) (preferably at 11:11….)**

**So, quick recap (as if you might have forgotten where we left off):**

"_You think we'll still be dating in a year?" A.J. interrupted, his voice carefully casual._

_ I hadn't really noticed I was implying just that, but instead of answering the question, I asked "Don't you?"_

_ "I certainly hope so, because—" He stopped, and so did the scratching of his quill. I bent my head back to look at him again, and was surprised to find him gazing at me intently. "Lily, I love you."_

**

* * *

Chapter 22: All About the Love**

I sat up so quickly that I knocked into A.J.'s elbow, causing him to draw a long line of ink across his notes. He didn't notice, however, intent as he was on my reaction.

"What?" I asked stupidly. A.J. didn't reply, but his left eyebrow twitched up slightly as if to say 'you heard me.' Which I had, loud and (frighteningly) clear. After a pause, I asked what was possibly an even stupider question, "Are you sure?"

A.J. grinned at that. "'Course—it's not exactly something a bloke throws around lightly, you know."

_Unless he's trying to get into a girl's knickers, _I thought. But I felt it was somewhat inappropriate to broach that argument now. Plus, that applied more to sleazy, un-decent blokes, not A.J. "Oh, well . . . okay then. Um, I don't—er, thanks?" I shook my head, blushing. "Merlin, that sounds—you know how bad I am at this kind—well, I'm shutting up before I make a bigger prat of myself." My blush deepened and I fought the urge to bury my face in my hands.

A.J. was laughing now, though quietly since we _were_ in the library. "You really are awful at this relationship business, aren't you?" I would have been offended, but I knew he was teasing. Plus, it was true. "But that's partly why I lo—"

"Please don't say it again," I cut in hurriedly. I winced as a hurt look flashed through his eyes. "I mean," I went on quickly, "I don't mind that you said it—it's . . . nice—" I winced again, wishing I was better at this, "but I—it makes me feel guilty because I don't—at least, I'm not sure if I—"

To my relief, A.J. smiled again. "It's okay—you don't have to say it back. I just thought you should know."

"Right," I said, my insides still squirming uncomfortably. As A.J. started to turn back to his notes, I leaned forward and kissed him. "I _do _know that I really like you. A lot." I frowned. "Well, that was kind of repetitive, but you kn—" A.J.—thankfully—interrupted my idiotic rambling by kissing me back.

"Good," he said, returning his gaze to the parchment balanced on his knees with a slightly amused smile.

I lay back against his leg once more, but though I stared at my open Charms book, I could no longer focus on the words. _We've known each other for what, three months? And I mean, three months since we _met. _So how could he possibly love me?_ I'd meant what I said—I really did like him a lot, but now I felt like he'd . . . raised the stakes, or something. And though I knew he hadn't meant it to, it put a lot of pressure on me. Now every time I saw him, I'd know he had stronger feelings for me than I had for him, and I feared it would make things . . . weird between us.

As it turned out, however, my problems with Remus were sufficiently distracting to leave me little time to worry about my boyfriend's recent profession of love. It still hurt to pass Remus in the hall and feel invisible because he acted like he hadn't seen me. Or worse, he shot me another one of what I'd dubbed his 'dead to me' looks.

Add to that the fact that the Marauders had unofficially sided with Remus again, and my life had taken a significant turn for the worse. Not that I blamed James, Sirius and Peter for being unwilling to turn on their best mate in support of the girl who had almost shared his most dangerous secret with the entire school. And even though I knew that they—or at least, Sirius and James, because Peter rarely chose sides in any argument—hadn't stopped thinking Remus should forgive me, they'd quit trying to actively convince _him_ of it. Again, understandable, but it was still rotten, because—and this was the hardest to admit—I actually missed being around the four of them.

Of course, I'd never tell anyone that, so when I ran into James sans his usual entourage after break on Friday, I did my best to hide my excessive happiness.

"Hello Lilykins," James said pleasantly.

That was distracting enough to wipe said happiness from my expression. "I'm sorry, what did you just call me?"

"Hmm, you're right, that didn't sound quite right . . . well, I'll just have to come up with another nickname for you."

"And why do I need a nickname?"

James just shrugged, smirking. "Anyway, long time no see, eh?"

"Yeah, it's been a good week," I replied with a sweet smile.

"Ouch, Evans."

"I guess I'm—" I stopped as we neared the Great Hall, realizing that if I kept walking with James, I'd likely run into Remus. Plus, I didn't think I could handle another meal with Mary and A.J.—they made me feel doubly guilty because one, I didn't love A.J., and two, I hadn't told Mary about any of it. I mean, confessions of love were prime best girlfriend-sharing material, and I hadn't told her. She would most likely murder me when she found out that I'd kept it from her, and yet, I was still putting it off.

"You're what?" James asked. "Speechless in my presence? Because I know—"

"Can you do me a favor?" I interrupted.

"Depends—does it involve anything dangerous or illegal?"

I frowned. "No."

"Then sorry, I can't help you," James said with a grin.

"I'm serious, okay?" I said with a sigh.

"All right—I'm seriously listening," he replied, though still with the hint of a smile.

"Could you—I mean, would you mind bringing me something to eat in the library? You know, just whatever's easiest to carry out—it's just, I have to study—"

"By which you mean you'd like to avoid . . . someone," James said, now without any upward tilt to his lips.

"A couple of someones, actually," I muttered. Sighing again, I added, "Look, I know it's cowardly, but I—"

"No, it's not cowardly," James assured me, and I wasn't sure if he meant it or if he was just saying that, but I appreciated it all the same. "Although, you know you could just nip down to the kitchens, whose location I, out of the unfathomable kindness of my heart, have bestowed upon you," he added with a wink.

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, but I don't think it'd really be fair to the house elves, giving them extra work just because I don't want to face my problems."

James regarded me thoughtfully for a moment. "Or we could go to Hogsmeade."

"What?"

"For lunch," he clarified.

I snorted, but James just raised his eyebrows. "Wait, you're serious?" I asked. "I guess we could . . . but we don't really have time to make it down there and back, do we?"

"We do if we aren't planning on attending Potions this afternoon."

To my utter surprise, I found myself seriously considering this proposal. "I suppose Potions is the class I'd be least likely to get detention for skipping," I finally said slowly. "Besides, it is Friday," I added as an afterthought.

James grinned. "I knew we'd make a rebel out of you yet, Evans."

_Just a testament to how shitty my week has been_. But all I said aloud was, "Tapestry of those eighteenth century wizards, right?"

After we'd ducked behind the tapestry and James had pried open the hidden door, he turned to me questioningly. "Ladies first?" he offered in a whisper.

I peered into the darkness beyond. "Um, no, you can go down the dark creepy tunnel before me."

James smirked. "All right, then." He crawled in, calling back to me, "Remember that you have to crouch a bit first before it opens up, so watch your head."

"Right," I muttered, wondering again if this was a bad idea. I mean, probably, since it involved breaking the rules and James Potter, but . . . _ah, what the hell, right?_ Lighting my wand tip, I stuck my head into the hole to follow James. Pausing, I suddenly remembered our conversation about the secret passageways out of the castle last month. James had mentioned some of them weren't in use any more because they'd collapsed . . . "How likely is it that this will fall in on us?" I called, only half in jest. But James didn't answer, so I merely sighed and pulled the rest of my body in after my head. Soon, as James had promised, I reached the point where the tunnel widened, and I was able to straighten up.

"So, off to Hogsmeade?" he asked as I brushed the dirt off my knees, tucking something into his pocket.

My eyes followed the movement, but I decided not to question it. Instead, I just grinned and said, "Lead on, good sir."

**OOOOOOOO**

As James had told me when he'd sprung me out of detention, the passage we'd chosen came out around a bend past the main part of the village. Watching James replace the small boulder we'd shoved aside to get out and seeing how seamlessly it fit into the hole, I said, "I'd never in a million years guess this was here. Remind me how you found it again?"

James grinned. "If I told you that, I really would have to kill you."

"Fine. So, where's the best lunch around these parts?"

We ended up in the Three Broomsticks, where James ordered us two fish and chips and two butterbeers. I was suddenly struck by how much this resembled a date, and was glad when James distracted me by asking, "So, why are you avoiding A.J.?"

"What? How do you know I'm avoiding him?"

"Well, you said you were avoiding 'a couple someones,' and by process of elimination . . . plus, you pretty much just confirmed it." He smirked annoyingly at me.

I glared at him. "You're really good at butting into things that are none of your business, you know."

"One of my many endearing qualities."

"Of course," I agreed sarcastically, popping a chip into my mouth.

"So?" James prompted.

"I'm really not going to talk with you about this."

"Why not?"

"Because it's not—I mean, it's kind of . . . personal."

"Well, as it has to do with your boyfriend, I figured as much."

I raised an eyebrow. "And this doesn't deter you at all?"

"What do you think?"

"You know that most people—specifically, most _friends_—would take the hint and leave it alone."

"Okay, you're right," James said with a sigh. Then he grinned and added, "So, why are you avoiding A.J.?"

On the point of eating another chip, I changed my mind and threw it at him instead. "All right, all right, but only because I know you'll never stop bothering me about it." I paused, not believing I was actually going to tell him this. "He—er—he told me he loved me."

James looked a little shocked—if I had to guess, that'd been the last thing he was expecting—but he recovered quickly (as always). "And what did you—"

"Skipping school, are we?" a new voice interrupted, as none other than Sirius Black plopped down beside me. "That's going to be a mark on your record, Prefect Evans."

"And what about your record, Black?" I asked, once I'd gotten over the surprise of his sudden and unexpected appearance.

"Seventy-three."

"Er, what?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, I thought you were asking what my record was for skipping class without getting caught. You have my permission to be impressed."

I raised my eyebrows. "I'm sure I would be if I didn't know the other half of that statistic."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, the number of times you've skipped class and _have _been caught."

"Ah—good point, Evans." He thought for a moment, then shook his head. "I've lost count."

I sat back in satisfaction, but quickly leaned forward again. "Hang on, how did you find us?"

It was James who answered, pulling out the mirror he'd had with him the night I'd almost been attacked by Remus. "He called right after I got into the tunnel—I believe you were distracted wondering—" he started with a smirk.

"—what would happen if it collapsed on top of us? Yeah, silly me," I said sarcastically, though that answered the question of what James had been shoving into his pocket.

"Anyway, I knew class would be complete crap without either of you, so . . ." Sirius spread his hands conclusively. After a pause, he added, "What've you kids been talking about?"

"Professions of love," James said breezily.

"Come again?" Sirius said, raising his eyebrows.

"Okay, we're not going to—" I started, but James overrode me. Prick.

"From A.J. To Lily," he added unnecessarily.

Sirius's eyebrows climbed even higher on his forehead while my cheeks flushed a dark red. "Huh. How 'bout that?" he mused, an odd look on his face.

"What?" I asked, not entirely sure I wanted to know.

"Well, it's just—I suppose he was serious, was he?"

"Are you saying I'm unlovable?" I demanded, immediately on the defensive.

"No, no—of course not, love," Sirius said with a wink, which only made me roll my eyes, unconvinced. "I meant it's a little strange, that's all—not exactly something a bloke usually says, because—"

"—it means you'd actually have to see the girl again?" I said sardonically. "Yes, I can see where you'd be confused by the concept, Black."

Sirius grinned. "Glad we understand each other. I mean, I _might _say it, but only to . . . you know."

I snorted—a bit hypocritical, I know, because I'd had the same thought earlier with A.J., but I had to be offended on behalf of my own sex. On principle, you know. "Honestly, you are the most insensitive person I think I've ever met."

"And yet you can't help but like the prat—funny, isn't it?" James asked.

"Hilarious," I agreed dryly.

**OOOOOOOO**

Over the next month, things settled into a new, though decidedly not improved, normality. I gradually felt less uncomfortable around A.J., until things had returned nearly to the way they were before. He didn't say the L word again, so I could almost pretend he'd never uttered it.

I also got used to my estrangement from Remus. He no longer shot me looks of loathing every time we passed in the halls—instead, he'd fully adopted the notion that I didn't exist. We continued doing rounds separately; I was sure McGonagall wouldn't approve if she knew, but I certainly wasn't going to tell her.

As it always did when the end of the year approached, the stress of exams mixed with the promise of summer break was the catalyst for several nervous breakdowns, dramatic breakups (or impulsive hook ups), and clash of tempers. And it was this that I blamed for the series of events that lead to . . . well, you'll see.

I clearly remembered the stress of last year as I prepared to take my O.W.L.s, if only because I'd later think how it paled in comparison to how awful I felt about the events that followed them. Nevertheless, I fully sympathized with A.J. as he started to unravel slightly at the seams in the last week of May.

"Well, are you sure?" he demanded of me late one night in the common room.

I paused slightly before answering to control the annoyance that threatened to spring into my voice. "A.J., why would I have your Transfiguration book?" I asked calmly, hoping to recall reason back into the conversation.

My boyfriend stared at me for a moment before letting out a long and defeated sigh. "Right, sorry," he muttered, turning to dig in his bag again. Stopping suddenly, he frowned. "Actually, I might have left it in the Quidditch lockers. I brought it down to study because James always gets a bit tense around matches and tends to drone on about tactics unnecessarily, and especially since this is a big game . . . I mean, he would have killed me if he'd caught me, but . . . I'll be back," he finished, standing and leaving through the portrait hole.

I watched him go, now frowning myself. Not because of his somewhat confusing and rambling explanation—this was also a new development caused by his increased stress load, so I'd learned to sort of ignore him when he talked. No, I was once again contemplating the ridiculousness of Quidditch. I mean, if A.J. felt like he couldn't even study without igniting Potter's wrath, then . . . well, that wasn't fair.

Just then, the Quidditch captain himself entered the common room accompanied by Sirius, but not Peter or, thankfully, Remus. I decided on the spot to intervene on A.J.'s behalf—I knew full well that anyone who played or seriously followed Quidditch was quite sensitive about any allegations that it might be something less than the most important thing in the world, so I'd have to go about it carefully.

"Evans, where's Rookie?" he inquired as he and Sirius plopped onto the couch across from me. "I'd think that, since I've graciously cancelled Quidditch practice today, he'd _love _to spend his free evening with you." He grinned evilly.

_Okay, maybe not so carefully, then_. Ever since I'd—foolishly—mentioned that A.J. had told me he loved me, James had made an effort to slip hints about it into nearly all of our conversations. It was getting very tiresome. "Actually, I'm glad you brought up Quidditch, Potter," I said, ignoring both his question and his attempt to rile me. "You've had, what, six practices in the last seven days?" I asked, hoping I came off as casually interested.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Sirius frown at me, but Potter merely shrugged and said, "Yeah, why?"

"Seems like a lot, doesn't it?"

"Not with the final coming up," James answered. "And since we lost to Hufflepuff by thirty points, and Slytherin beat them by one hundred and twenty, it means we've got to—"

"Yes, well, sparing the details," I interrupted hurriedly, not caring for a discussion of strategy, which would only be over my head anyway, "I'm just thinking that . . . with exams coming up . . . and some people have—"

Apparently catching on to where I was heading, Sirius said, "Careful, Evans," and though his voice was teasing, there was a warning look in his eyes when I glanced at him.

Ignoring it, I pressed on, "All I'm saying is that some of your players might appreciate more time off to—"

"And by some of them you of course mean A.J.," James said, raising an eyebrow.  
"Well, yes."

Potter pressed his lips together briefly before saying, "So, let me see if I've got this straight—Rookie's feeling stressed, so he told you to talk to me and—"

"No, of course he didn't," I cut in. "He's perfectly capable of talking to you if he wants t—"

"Then maybe you should let him," James said, a little tersely.

I raised my eyebrows. "Fine," I replied shortly. I started to pull out my homework, though I couldn't stop myself from adding, "But you know he doesn't want to let you down, so I don't think he'd ever admit he was having trouble, even though I know he's been under a lot of pressure—I mean, it's understandable, with his O.W.L.s coming up—"

"Seriously, I think you should let him handle it, Evans," Potter interrupted again, barely controlled anger in his voice now.

"Why are you getting all defensive about this? I'm just—"

"Well, why are _you_?"

We glared at each other for a moment, until Sirius broke the tense silence, "So, I've been thinking about buying a motorcycle."

He was obviously trying to change the subject to diffuse what was clearly becoming another infamous James-Lily row. And what he'd said might have been surprising enough to succeed in this, if A.J. hadn't re-entered the room just then.

"Ah, Rookie, glad you're here," James said with forced pleasantness. "Maybe you can settle something—you have a mother, right?"

I sighed impatiently. "That's not—"

"I think I was speaking to A.J., Evans."

"Er . . . yes," A.J. replied slowly, looking apprehensively between James and I.

"Excellent. Then I suppose you wouldn't need Evans here to worry about you doing well in school."

"I can—" I tried again angrily.

"Because apparently she feels it necessary to inform me that I've been insensitive to schedule Quidditch practice every day, and that everyone would be much better off if I catered to your every need instead and made sure you weren't feeling too stressed out."

"Er . . ." A.J. repeated.

"Stop it, Potter," I snapped. "Honestly, it's just a damn game, I don't understand why everyone—oh, don't look so shocked," I said impatiently. "Really, do you think it's going to matter in thirty years whether you win this game? But whether you pass your exams, that's—"

Potter let out a short, disbelieving laugh. "Of course you'd say something like that, Evans. Merlin, I don't even know why I'm still listening to you." He started to pack up his bag again. Standing, he added curtly, "Look, I had Qudditch practice every day last year too, and I made it through O.W.L.s just fine. So I don't think A.J.—"

I stood as well. "Oh, right, because if it's fine for the great James Potter, then that should be good enough for everyone else. I know for a fact that you hardly studied at all for your O.W.L.s—"

"And how the hell would you know that? You didn't think I was worth a damn back then, remember?"

"Well, you certainly had plenty of free time to hex people just for the hell of it and ruin my life, didn't you?"

Potter blinked, stunned briefly to silence at my words. Then, with another humorless laugh, he started for the portrait hole.

Already feeling guilty for my outburst, I said, "Potter, I didn't mean—"

He whipped back around to glare at me. "Why don't you do us all a favor, Evans, and shut up."

Feeling like I'd been slapped, I turned back to the others. A.J. was staring at me in surprise and confusion. "What just hap—" he began.

But I just shook my head, sitting back down, and A.J. thankfully didn't question it as he came to sit beside me. As I pulled out parchment and a quill, I glanced at Sirius. He was watching me with a sad sort of smile on his face. "You just had to bring up that day, didn't you?" And he stood to follow James out of the portrait hole. My throat tightened at his words, the disappointment in his voice almost worse than Potter's outright anger.

**OOOOOOOO**

"I mean, what made me say that?" I moaned to Mary, who was doing her hair and makeup in the bathroom Saturday morning.

"For the thousandth time, Lily, I don't know," she replied, sounding a little annoyed. To be fair, I _had _been practically obsessing about my fight with James over the past week. I'd done it before, but the main difference this time was that I was berating my own stupidity instead of complaining about what he'd done.

"The one thing that's always been an issue for us—and just when I thought we'd—well, I'd just told him I'd moved past it, but it certainly doesn't look that way now, does—"

"Lily," Mary interrupted sharply, "I've heard all this. And I'm sorry you had a fight, but if you'd just _apologize_—"

"Well, I tried, but he just told me to shut up," I said, knowing it was slightly pathetic as an excuse.

"Right," Mary said, emerging from the bathroom. "So, you sure you don't want to come to the match?"

"Yeah, I'm just not in the mood today."

"Not even to cheer on A.J.?" she wheedled.

"He doesn't mind that I'm not going—I've already told him good luck and all."

Mary rolled her eyes. "Fine," she sighed. "But I'm making you come to the after party if we win," she promised. Or maybe 'threatened' is a better word.

"Fair enough," I assented, and Mary left the dormitory.

**OOOOOOOO**

As fate would have it, we did win—not that I was necessarily complaining, because it _was _exciting for Gryffindor. I just didn't happen to be in a celebratory mood. I managed to hide out in the dormitory for the majority of the party, until Mary literally dragged me downstairs, insisting that I at least congratulate A.J.

He came straight over to me as soon as I cleared the last step into the common room. "Hey, sorry—I've been sort of a horrible girlfr—" I started, but was interrupted as A.J. kissed me.

"We won!" he exclaimed unnecessarily.

I grinned. "Yeah, I gathered that. All due to your brilliant Seeking, I'm sure."

"Indeed," he agreed, kissing me again. "Could I interest you in a delicious liquidy beverage?"

I laughed. "Sure—er, just butterbeer," I requested, vividly remembering my last encounter with alcohol.

"I'll be right back," A.J. promised.

As soon as he left, I spotted Potter coming towards me. _Shit, here we go_, I thought, steeling myself for . . . a hug? I was so surprised that I just stood there, hands hanging stupidly at my sides until he released me. When he pulled back, he stumbled slightly, and the hug started to make more sense.

"Evans, I'm—I jus'—sorry about . . . the thing."

I laughed. "You're drunk," I accused.

"L'il bit," he agreed. "But I mean—meant it—what I said. Jus' now, not . . . y'know, th'other day."

"I know—I'm sorry too. I mean, I shouldn't try and tell you how to run your team."

"I _am _the Cap'in."

I laughed again. "Yes, I know. That's why I'm apologizing. And I—" But I stopped. No need to bring up the other bit, right? If James wasn't going to bother about it, I wasn't going to start the fight over again.

"Righ,' yeah." James grinned. "Well, glad tha's settled."

"Me too, because I really didn't—"

But I was forced to stop again, because at that moment, James leaned down and kissed me.

**

* * *

A/N: Yes, yes, I'm terrible person that deserves to suffer a long and painful death and all that….**


	24. Just Remember

**A/N: You. Guys. Are. AWESOME! No, seriously, you are. I posted chapter 23 at about 10:30 PM, and by the time I checked my e-mail at work the next morning around 8:15, I already had THIRTY-ONE REVIEWS! My jaw literally dropped. Okay, not literally. But it probably would have if not for the risk of my coworkers wondering at my sudden shock. But wait, it gets better. Because over the past five days, we blew past 400 reviews for this story, AND hit 75! reviews for this chapter alone! *makes WOW face. And I didn't even mind all the death threats for being so cruel with the cliffhanger, haha.**

**SO, a gigantic, wonderful, delicious (er, what? I don't know) thank you to (deep breath, it's a long one): Heart of the Phoenix, NathyMoony, ClaraMay, accio-ninjaness, Inu13, Somesets, Gwen, MissArtemisFowl, Agnes Werneck, iKKxLee52, stellalunaa, DarlingILoveYou, Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh (LOL), rosey grunblatt, BrokenFaerie16, Evisawesome, gravesofqueens, existence555, Girlfriend of nick day, kikicakes, GiantPurpleRing, Doormanland, Miss larien, 02, autumnfallout, Aen 06, Alice Demer, Caroline Turpentine, WhereIsMyThumpThump, swimer123, angiedotdotla, Foreverandtrulyyours, skazmi, Jenn222, dancer987, theycallherkaush, misszsalvatore101, RaptorSaysRawr, polarbear1355, ottoismydog, AJAY09, Sunset on Heartache, AliLuvsAlliSirius, SeriouslySiriusBlack, teteeee, ZoneSystems, xoFallenLeavesxo, MaryandMerlin, EchoNightFall22, .forever2116 (I swear I type out your whole name each time, but ffnet shortens it for some reason….sorry for making you think I always forgot you!), Tabbycat270, WobblyJelly, Meeeee, xoxokat, Silver Scorpion, unspokenlies, snookolive, marinewife08, Rach, Will Write For Food, Elless, Cassie Cayne (formerly known as Weasley? Right? I think this is you…), emotionsonhold, jak23, unnamed anonymous reviewer, PkmnLuver292, steel-trap, PoseidonsLittleGirl, i3fiction, amy-x-ian-forever, Taylorcutie, Dancethroughlife, and movinggirl! Also, Papoose913 and Iratze, who reviewed the prologue chapter, but I THINK they were meant for this past one….WOW that took a long time to get through! And I still can't believe this RIDICULOUS number of reviews!  
**

**Also, I realized this week that I don't often reply to questions people post in reviews. And I wanted to assure you that it's nothing personal….usually, if I don't respond, it's because you'll find out in the future (be it near or far), and I don't want to ruin the story! But I'll try and do better from now on **

**Anyway, one question a lot of people seem to ask is how long this story is going to be. And I've always responded with some version of 'I have no idea.' I bring this up now because, well, I HAVE an idea now. I sat down and semi-thoroughly outlined the rest of the story, and it came out to around 33 chapters. So, there you go. And I can tell/warn you right now that there are definitely at least two more big cliffhangers. ****In a row. *****ducks as sharp projectiles are thrown at my head by angry readers.**

**Hey, at least I warned you, right?**

**Okay, so, since you've probably skipped all that already, and are shouting 'get on with it' like in Monty Python and the Holy Grail, here's the next chapter!**

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(again, not that you need it, but just to set up the scene):**

_ "I know—I'm sorry too. I mean, I shouldn't try and tell you how to run your team."_

_ "I am the Cap'in."_

_ I laughed again. "Yes, I know. That's why I'm apologizing. And I—" But I stopped. No need to bring up the other bit, right? If James wasn't going to bother about it, I wasn't going to start the fight over again._

_ "Righ,' yeah." James grinned. "Well, glad tha's settled."_

_ "Me too, because I really didn't—"_

_ But I was forced to stop again, because at that moment, James leaned down and kissed me._

**

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Chapter 23:** **Just Remember**

And it wasn't exactly just a peck on the lips. I stood there frozen in surprise—at least, I thought I did. But when he finally pulled back, I was horrified to discover that my hands had somehow found their way around James's neck.

I looked up to see James watching me with an idiotic grin on his face.

"I—um," I started, my voice coming out as a croak.

Before I could clear my throat and start again—not that I had any idea what to say—James put a finger on my lips. "Shh—it'll be our l'il secret," he said, and with that, he walked away.

I stared after him for a moment before coming to my senses. My heart leapt into my throat as I quickly looked around, wondering if anyone had witnessed our—I could hardly believe the word—kiss. But no one was paying any attention to me; we were at a party, after all. I tried not to acknowledge how relieved I felt at this discovery, and as it turned out, it wasn't that difficult. I was quickly distracted as A.J. returned at that moment with butterbeer for me.

One look at his face told me he hadn't seen James's and my recent, er, exchange, and another wave of relief swept through me.

"One butterbeer, as requested," A.J. announced with a smirk, handing me my drink and leaning in to kiss me. I automatically stiffened, irrationally afraid that he'd be able to taste James's lips on mine. A.J. pulled back with a frown. "What's up?"

"Er, nothing—er, do you want to . . . go somewhere?"  
"What?" A.J. asked with a bemused smile.

"I mean—you know—somewhere that's . . . not here?"

A.J. raised an eyebrow. "Are you trying to seduce me, Miss Evans?" he asked shrewdly.

I punched his arm lightly. "No," I said, blushing. "I just wanted to—I guess what I'm trying to say is that I'm not really in the partying mood anymore." _And by that I mean I need to get out of here and away from James, because I'm a coward._

A.J. shrugged. "Okay—any suggestions?"

"Not really," I said, but my feet were already directing me towards the portrait hole. A.J. intertwined his fingers with mine as we stepped into the corridor beyond, and we began to walk slowly away from the common room.

My mind was still reeling with the memory of James's lips on mine, and I was on the verge of an all-out panic. I knew this wasn't something I could just ignore until it went away—though I might not have to deal with it tonight, certainly by tomorrow . . . "Can you distract me, please?" I heard myself ask A.J., wincing as it came out sounding slightly desperate.

"Seriously, are you sure you're okay?" he asked.

"Yes—well, kind of—I mean . . . please don't ask," I finished in a pleading whisper.

"Okay," A.J. said, sounding a little bewildered. "Er, right . . . so, I saw Sirius chatting up Melanie Brown—you know, that seventh year who—"

"Has a reputation that would make a prostitute blush?" I finished, and A.J. pretended to look shocked.

"Lily Evans," he said with mock admonishment, "I'd never have expected such crassness from you!"

"What? She is a complete slag," I defended.

A.J. grinned. "Right, well, anyway, you know she has a twin—Marietta—in Hufflepuff?" I nodded. "I don't really know why, but she's at the party tonight as well." I grinned, suddenly guessing where this was going. "So, at one point, Sirius turns away to talk to Remus, and Marietta quickly takes her sister's place, and when Sirius turns back, he carries on like nothing happened! I mean, they're wearing completely different outfits, and he didn't even notice!"

I laughed. "Or maybe he did, but didn't really fuss about it—a girl's a girl, after all."

"Yeah, but, of the two, Melanie'd be much more likely to get off with him."

I couldn't argue with that—while they were twins down to the last perfectly manicured nail, they had almost completely opposite personalities. "Honestly, he never ceases to amaze me—and not in a good way, either. Can you believe he's thinking of buying a motorcycle?"

"What?" A.J. asked, and too late, I remembered he hadn't been present for that part of the conversation a few days ago.

"Oh, well, he—er—mentioned it that night when James and I fought about Quidditch," I explained. _And now I'm thinking about the kiss again. Well done, Lily_.

A.J. didn't say anything for a minute, and when he did speak, it was in a serious tone. "Can I ask you something about that night?"

"I guess," I said slowly.

"What did Sirius mean when he asked why you'd brought up 'that day'?"

And here it was. We'd made it nearly four months without having this conversation, but now there was no choice. _Well, James would be happy_, I thought, somewhat bitterly. Sighing, I stopped walking to face A.J., dropping his hand in the process. "It's kind of a long story. And you might—well, it involves something . . . big, that you don't know about me."

A.J. raised his eyebrows. "Is this big thing also bad?"

"I—it's kind of a matter of opinion, but . . ." I stopped, uncomfortable.

A.J. seemed to sense my apprehension, because he said gently, "You don't have to tell me."

_Merlin, he's too nice,_ I thought, my insides squirming guiltily at the thought of the other big—and definitely bad—thing he didn't know about me. "No, it's—I should." Looking around, I pushed experimentally at the door to an empty classroom. It gave under my hand, and I led A.J. into it, shutting the door behind us and sliding down against one of the walls. A.J. sat down beside me, knees bent and arms resting casually on top of them.

I sat quietly for a moment, trying to decide how to begin. "I guess the first thing you need to know is—you know Severus Snape?" A.J. nodded. "Well, he used to be my best friend." A.J.'s eyes widened in surprise, and I nodded grimly. "Yep, hard to believe, right? But he wasn't always so . . . I mean, I met him when I was nine—he was the one who told me that I was a witch."

And I told A.J. the story of Sev's and my early friendship, how he'd been this strange and gawky kid who'd talked so passionately about magic, and had excitedly described how wonderful Hogwarts would be. Never in my young life had I wanted to visit a place so badly, and as I discovered that I would not only get to visit it, but live and go to school there for seven years . . . well, it had seemed only natural to like the person who'd introduced me to that. Finally, I'd be part of a place where I wasn't a 'freak,' but where I was surrounded by people—witches and wizards—who could do magic just like me.

"We met Potter and Black on our first day at Hogwarts—on the train ride there, in fact. And with Severus, well, it was just one of those things where each instantly loathed the other. Understandable, to a point, of course. I mean, on the one hand you have James, who comes from a long line of Gryffindors, so it's only natural that he'd despise Sev for wanting to be in Slytherin. It's an old prejudice, but as an eleven-year-old . . . he had that childish tendency to only see the world in black and white, good and evil.

"As for Sirius, well, he was James's opposite in terms of family legacy, but he absolutely despises his Slytherin heritage. So it makes sense that he'd want to adamantly distance himself from any semblance of a connection to that House.

"At any rate, James, Sirius, and later Peter and Remus had a feud going with Severus from day one. And they were rather horrible to him—I mean, it was never really a fair fight, since Sev was outnumbered at least two to one every time . . ." I paused, suddenly realizing how distantly and objectively I was talking about this. It shocked me, that I could discuss it so calmly. Shaking myself and choosing to ignore this for the moment, I continued, "Anyway, while on the one hand I hated James and Sirius for their pranks and hexes and taunting, I also started to notice that Sev was slipping further towards the—at the risk of sounding cliché—dark side.

"He started hanging out with Slytherins who—well, they pulled some pretty awful and downright cruel pranks themselves. And it wasn't just pranks . . . you could even call some of them attacks. Plus, there were rumors floating around that they intended to join the Death Eaters when they left school . . ." Here, I was forced to stop again, because this was the part of the story that I still hadn't fully dealt with yet. But I was nearing the end of my tale, so I knew I had to just push through and finish it.

"So, at the end of last year, things all kind of came to a head. It was after our Defense O.W.L., and James and Sirius were once again taunting Sev, and I was, once again, defending him. I guess they must have finally pushed him too far, or—well, I don't really know, but he ended up shouting at me as well, saying he didn't help from a—from a filthy little Mudblood like me." I said this quickly, because it still stung to remember the words.

A.J. made a noise that was half-incredulous, half-furious. But before he could say anything, I pressed on. "I ended my friendship with Sev that day, and for a long time I blamed Potter for what happened. But now I know—and even then I knew, though I didn't want to admit it—that it really wasn't his fault. It was all heading in that direction anyway, and Sev . . . he was always going to choose the Dark Arts over me."

I fell silent at last, looking to A.J. to see his reaction. He didn't look at me for a while, frowning at his knees instead. Finally, he glanced over and asked, "And Snape's—I mean, I heard he, er . . . left to . . . so he's—" I nodded, and A.J. dropped his gaze to his knees again. "I'm sorry," he said quietly.

I sighed. "It's fine. Well, not _fine_, but I've—there's nothing I can do about it, so I might as well learn to live with it, right?" I tried to sound lighthearted, attempting to convince myself as much as him.

At that, A.J. really looked at me. "Wow," he said eventually.

"What?"

"I'm just impressed by how . . . okay, you seem about all of that. And being friends with James . . . well, let's just say it doesn't seem so trivial to me anymore," he finished with a smirk.

I shrugged. "Like I said, none of it was his fault, really. And he's apologized for it, so—" I stopped, realizing this was the first time I'd actually defended James about his actions towards Severus. _Another milestone, I guess_, I thought ruefully. "Anyway, it's sort of one of those untouchable topics, so it was pretty low of me to bring it up in our argument the other day." I smiled suddenly. "So there's your answer—long enough, huh?"

A.J. returned my grin. "I'd say."

**OOOOOOOO**

We talked for a bit longer about much lighter things (namely the match, since I'd missed it), and we snogged for a while as well—hey, we'd gone through the trouble of finding an abandoned classroom, hadn't we? When we eventually started back towards the common room, I prayed that the party had broken up, so I wouldn't have to—

"Rookie! I'm—I've ba-been lookin' aaaaaaall over for ya!"

_Of course James _would _have to be the first person we run into on our return_, I thought in irritation as I concentrated on not turning bright red. But I needn't have bothered—James barely spared me a glance as he pulled A.J. away into a large circle of Gryffindor Quidditch players and their adoring fans. A.J. looked back at me with a half-shrug and an apologetic smile, mouthing 'I'll be right back.'

I nodded and wandered away from the crowded center of the room.

Suddenly feeling incredibly lonely and tired, I turned towards the girls' staircases, taking them two at a time. Shutting the door of my dormitory on the pounding of music and sounds of laughter floating up from below, I leaned against it for a moment, struggling against the tears that had inexplicably sprung into my eyes. Finally deciding that it was a losing battle, I strode over to collapse on my bed, succumbing to a good, hard cry, not entirely sure just what I was crying about. Nevertheless, when done sparingly, crying actually makes you feel quite a lot better. I'd just caught my breath again and wiped my eyes when the door opened.

"There you are—I saw you come down earlier, but then you just disap—sweetie, what's wrong?" Mary voice abruptly changed from exasperated to concerned as she caught sight of my puffy eyes and red nose.

"Oh, nothing, I'm—"

"That, my dear, is complete bullocks—you never cry," Mary interrupted, sitting down beside me and handing me a tissue from the table between our beds. "Seriously, what's up?"

I sighed. "Well, for starters," I said, blowing my nose, "Remus still hates me." That was the easiest one to admit, and had truthfully contributed a little to my recent tears.

Mary hugged me around the shoulders. "I'm sorry, love."

I leaned into her hug for a moment, before standing and moving to sit on her bed. "I don't want to get hurt when I tell you this next part and you completely wig out," I explained when Mary frowned at me. "So, tonight—just a couple hours ago, actually—I mean, I wasn't expecting it at all—well, why would I? It wasn't like—"

"Would you spit it out already, Lily," Mary demanded, crossing her arms impatiently.

Taking a deep breath, I plunged on, "James kissed me."

Mary stared at me for a full five seconds. Then she squealed "What?" so loudly that I almost fell off her bed in surprise.

I nodded. "Oh, and a few weeks ago, A.J. told me he loved me."

Mary leapt off my bed at that and I flinched back, afraid she might actually hit me for being such a crap friend.

"What have you—why didn't—I thought we were best friends!"

"I know, I know—I'm horrible—I just—Merlin, Mary, I don't know why I didn't tell you—"

"Well, that's no excuse!"

"I know," I repeated. "But I've told you now, so your brilliant advice would be much appreciated."

Mary raised her eyebrows. "Bit of a tall order, don't you think?"

I wrinkled my nose. "Please don't tell me that—I need you to tell me it's all going to work out."

"Okay, just give me a second to digest everything." She sat down beside me on her bed. After a pause, in which I continued to look at her anxiously, she said, "So, what did you say when A.J. told you he loved you?"

I blushed and relayed our subsequent conversation.

Mary smirked. "Oh, Lily, you're so woefully naïve about all things relationship-related, it's precious."

I rolled my eyes. "About that advice . . ."

"All right, all right—I'm getting there. So, A.J. loves you, and you . . . er . . . 'really like' him . . . and James kissed you tonight."

"Yep, that pretty much sums it up." Panic suddenly overtook me again, and I fixed Mary with a pleading look. "I'm a complete slag, aren't I? I mean, what am I going to do?" I stood up and started pacing; Mary tracked my progress with her eyes. "I'll have to talk to Potter tomorrow—God, that's going to be one of the worst conversations of my life! How could he—I didn't even know—he's joked about and even outright denied having feelings for me, so what the hell is he playing at? I—"

"Okay, Lily, just calm down! I can't help you when you're freaking out like this!"

I took a deep breath and flopped down on my bed again.

Mary scooted forward on the edge of her bed, leaning towards me slightly. "Right, so, you will have to face James tomorrow—that's unavoidable." I wrinkled my nose. "And it _is _going to be awkward, I'm sorry, but I can't promise you otherwise." This time I let out a frustrated groan.

"Why'd he have to do this? I actually—finally—really like being friends with him, and now—"

"You can still be friends," Mary insisted with a tiny frown. "This doesn't ruin anything."

I raised a skeptical eyebrow. "But it's never going to be the same."

"Maybe not at first, but—"

"Shit!" I interrupted her suddenly, sitting up straight as a new thought struck me. "What am I going to tell A.J.?" I know, probably the first thing I should have thought of, but I hadn't.

"You don't have to tell him anything," Mary said mildly.

I snorted. "No, that'll just come back to bite me in the—"

"Okay, okay, you're right. Well, look, it's not like it's that big a deal, right? I mean, James was drunk, and you didn't kiss him back . . . did you?"

I opened my mouth fully intending to say 'no,' but when I actually stopped to think back on our kiss . . . "I don't remember," I finally said in a small voice.

Mary recovered from this blow remarkably quickly. "Okay, don't worry about that—this stuff happens at parties all the time, so . . . it's going to be fine, Lily."

"Easy for you to say," I muttered.

**OOOOOOOO**

"Well, could you just check?" I pleaded the next morning. Mary and I were at the bottom of the stairs, and I had asked her to—yep, you guessed it—go first to see if any of the Marauders (namely Remus or James) were in the common room.

"Lily, promise me that you won't just avoid him forever," Mary said, fixing me with a stern look.

"All right, all right—I promise. I don't want to deal with it first thing this morning, that's all. Now will you please look?"

With a sigh, Mary poked her head around the corner of the staircase. "You're in the clear," she announced, and I breathed a sigh of relief.

"Thanks," I said as we started towards the portrait hole. "You really are a fantastic friend; have I ever told y—" But I stopped abruptly as the Fat Lady swung open on all four Marauders, probably on their way back from breakfast.

_Oh come on_, I thought in exasperation. _What happened to being too hungover to go to breakfast this morning? Fate is just never on my side, is it?_

"Lily, I need to talk to you," James said immediately, and I felt myself go red. I could have sworn Mary let out a snort of laughter, but she expertly turned it into a sort of sneeze/cough, so I couldn't be sure.

"Well, forget that 'fantastic friend' bit," I muttered to her anyway. To James, I said, "Sure, of course," and I thought it came off convincingly casual . . . you know, besides the fact that my face was still as red as a tomato.

Remus continued past Mary and I with the barest of half-glances in my direction. _Well, that's progress, _I thought dryly, _almost an acknowledgement of my existence. _Peter had slowed slightly alongside James, but Sirius just rolled his eyes and grabbed his friend by the upper arm.

"Come on, Wormtail," he said, grinning at me in an all too knowing way as they passed. But he couldn't know—could he? Unless Potter had told them all . . . I winced as I turned to Mary again.

"I'll meet you later," I said resignedly.

Shooting me a somewhat evil smile, she nodded and continued down the corridor.

I watched her go as long as I possibly could without it being too obvious that I was avoiding the imminent conversation, and then I finally steeled myself to meet Potter's eyes.

"Right," he said once he had my attention. "So, I just wanted to apologize for . . . you know. I mean, I shouldn't have—it was a bit of an overreaction."

I frowned slightly—that was an odd way to put it. "Er, no problem. I—well, it happens, right?"

James smiled slightly. "Rather a lot to us, unfortunately."

I opened my mouth to reply, then shut it, thoroughly confused now. "Wait, what are you talking about?"

Now it was James's turn to frown. "What do you think I'm talking about?"

"I thought I knew, but now I'm not so sure."

"I'm trying to tell you that I'm sorry for getting so worked up about the Quidditch thing the other day." He smirked a little. "You're right—I probably do take it too seriously, but . . . it's something I—Evans, you all right?"

My jaw had dropped open slightly as I realized he had no idea he'd already apologized to me last night. That, or he was a really good actor. "Yes," I said, quickly closing my mouth. "I'm just . . . trying to process a couple things. First, the words 'you're right' just left your mouth, which is unprecedented." James's smirk widened. "And second . . . er, you already told me all that. Well, a rather more intoxicated version, but the main points were the same."

"I—what?" James said, frowning again.

"Last night, at the after party, you came up to me and said . . . you don't remember any of this, do you?" I tried not to sound too hopeful. But if he really didn't remember our conversation, then that meant he also didn't remember . . . what had followed.

James laughed. "Yeah, last night was . . . interesting. There's definitely a large period of it missing from my memory—but it's good to know that even my drunken self is looking out for our friendship," he said, smirk back in place.

"Yeah . . . that's good," I agreed with a smile, hating that I still felt embarrassed, wondering if I was obligated to tell him the other part he didn't remember. But, as you probably could guess, I was way too cowardly to do that, so what I said instead was, "I'm sorry too, by the way—you probably don't remember my apology either, so . . ."

"Right," James said, looking at me carefully. He seemed like he wanted to add something, but I glanced away, and an awkward silence descended upon us instead. As I searched for something to say, I realized it was the first time one had done so. We'd shouted at each other, exchanged sarcastic banter, and even had a few genuine conversations, but never had either of us been at a loss for words.

"Well, I should, you know, catch up with Mary," I said eventually.

"Okay, yeah," Potter said, too quickly.

I started to turn away.

"Hey, Evans!"

"Yeah?"

"We're good, right?"

"Of course," I said with a smile. But as I started walking again, it melted into a frown. _Merlin, I hope I don't always feel this embarrassed around him from now on_.

I was still frowning when I sat down across from Mary and pulled a plate of eggs towards me.

"So?" she asked tentatively.

"He doesn't remember."

"What?"

"He doesn't remember," I repeated. "Any of it."

Mary raised her eyebrows. "Well that's, um, convenient."

"Yeah, it's good—right? I mean, you don't think I should . . . tell him?"

Mary just looked at me.

"Right—you're right, of course I shouldn't."

**OOOOOOOO**

So I didn't. As busy as everyone became with exams and general end-of-the-year hype, I hardly had time to think of it myself. A.J. and I celebrated the end of his O.W.L.s at the last Hogsmeade weekend of the year. It was a chance for us to get in as much "couple time" as possible, too, since he'd be visiting relatives in Spain with his parents all summer. Incidentally, I didn't tell him about James's kiss either, and though I felt a little guilty about it, I easily convinced myself it was all for the best.

And suddenly, we were all boarding the train back.

"The end of the year always comes so fast—it sneaks up on me every time," I commented to A.J. as I helped him load his trunk onto the Hogwarts Express.

He laughed. "You know, you still surprise me sometimes with the crazy things you say."

I grinned back. "Well, I guess that's good—you won't get bored of me."

A.J. leaned over to kiss the top of my head. "No, I daresay I won't." He bent to pick up one end of my trunk, but soon dropped it, straightening abruptly.

"What?"

"I think I left—listen, I've got to run back," he said, starting to trot towards the castle. "I'll be right back!"

"Hurry!" I called after him. "I'm not going to hold the train for you!"

He whirled around but continued to run backwards. "Ah, I knew there was a reason I was dating you!"

I grinned as he turned and began to sprint in earnest. However, turning to contemplate my large and rather heavy trunk, I sighed, wishing he'd at least helped me load it before leaving. Reaching down, I dragged it by one end over to the compartment door, then hauled that end up so it was propped against the train. Getting behind it on the other side, I started shoving it inside. A moment later, another pair of hands joined mine, and the trunk slid smoothly onto the train. "Thanks," I said, straightening. Whatever else I might have said died in my throat as I looked up to find Remus standing beside me, an unreadable expression on his face.

"You could have just used magic, you know," he said finally, with the tiniest hint of a smile. "Since you're seventeen," he added when I continued to stare at him.

"Er, yes, I guess I could have," I said, shaking myself out of my shock. "But, still, I suppose I should be setting a good example, being a prefect and everything."

Just then, A.J. came panting up to us. "I remembered halfway back that I already—" he stopped abruptly, looking confusedly between Remus and I.

Genuinely smiling now, Remus nodded to me. "Have a good summer, Lily."

**

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A/N: Yay, they're friends again! See, now, you all didn't have to worry so much! Remus can't be a jerk for that long….he's physically incapable of it, after all ;)**

**So…..ALMOST everyone who reviewed predicted/were excited for some sort of showdown between James and A.J. after he saw them kiss. BUT, as you obviously know, that didn't happen. *ducks again as the A.J.-haters throw more sharp objects. All I can say is….actually, I don't know what to say. Sorry?**

**However, for those who are worried that James hasn't shown NEARLY enough jealousy/angst/etc over the Lily/A.J. sitch, don't worry, that's coming ;) I can promise you a very different (well, maybe not VERY different, but different) James for seventh year! Which will begin the chapter after next. Chapter 24 will be completely in letter form, like the one covering the Christmas holidays.**


	25. Interlude II: Vacation Rain

**A/N: Okay, I definitely meant to have this chapter posted earlier today, BUT then I had to stay an extra TWO HOURS at work, one thing led to another . . . anyway, here it is.**

**Lovely reviewers, you are amazing. Thanks so much to: polarbear1355, movinggirl, Cassie Weasley, Little Helper, sjm95x, Molly Raesly (thanks for the encouraging review, I loved the emerald eyes bit—so cute!), Inu13, 4herprince, steel-trap, lagirl266, WhereIsMyThumpThump, ClaraMay, AliLuvsAlli-Sirius, KneelBeforeTodd (hopefully LaT to satisfy our addiction by tomorrow, eh?), GiantPurpleRing, Sunset on Heartache, swimer123, rosey grunblatt, emandem, Iratze, Jenn222, Curious, accio-ninjaness, ottoismydog, Will Write For Food, marauders2116 (hopefully this doesn't disappear…), hple, maximum destined potter, Tabbycat270, WobblyJelly, Silver Scorpion, 19181901, jak23, xoxokat, Evisawesome, Kikicakes, PoseidonsLittleGirl, DarlingILoveYou, SeriouslySiriusBlack, thE eKLeKtiK avrge JoE (wow that was hard to type, haha!), silk399, ZoneSystems, Meeeee, EchoNightFall22, Heart of the Phoenix, marinewife08, AJAY09, MiToesesRTotallyRoses, Yreva13, Rach, BrokenFaerie16, Kiley 1 09, Bittersweet x, Elless, brittanyxedward, and Somesets!**

**This week's chapter is dedicated to movinggirl—hope this makes your week a little brighter!**

**Though all of you readers are wonderful, of course!**

**

* * *

Oh, and because ffnet is LAME and doesn't allow the amazing-and-thoughtfully-planned-out-based-on-their-personalities-b/c-I'm-OCD-like-that fonts that I've picked for every character, they will be identified as follows:**

Lily—normal (not to say she's boring and normal or anything, of course)

**James—bold**

_**A.J.—bold, italics**_

_Mary—italics_

Sirius—underlined (only has a brief 'cameo,' if you will)

**Damn, now I have to go and format everything…sigh. Life is hard.**

**

* * *

Chapter 24: Interlude II—Vacation Rain**

**Evans,**

**I feel a bit strange writing this, but I thought things seemed a little . . . weird at the end of the year, and I just wanted to, you know, make sure they, er . . . weren't. I know, my articulation and grasp of the English language is stunning. I hope you're not too awestruck to write back.**

**So, anything interesting happen in the last, oh, twenty-four hours since I've seen you? Well, that just makes this sound more . . . desperate? Creepy? Or, dare I say, stalker-ish? (that one's for you)**

**James**

* * *

Potter,

I must say that it wasn't shock at your stimulating prose so much as astonishment that you finally owned up to stalking me that nearly kept me from penning this reply. Normally, I would also add some jibe about your first concern seeming, well, frankly a bit girlish, but unfortunately I have to admit that it isn't unfounded—and I have to take full responsibility for that. I always get distracted around exams, so it was nothing personal.

Funny you should ask, but in fact several interesting things **have **happened since I saw you last. For one, Remus actually spoke to me. Nicely, I might add. As in, I think he's forgiven me. Somehow. I don't really get it, but I won't complain!

On a less pleasant note, I think I will be forced into the company of my sister's astonishingly dull and already-prejudiced-against-me boyfriend more than anyone should be expected to handle this summer. Ah well, life goes on, right?

Lily

* * *

**Lily,**

**I wasn't aware that 'several' had been redefined as 'two.' (I can hear your exasperated sigh now….but to save you the trouble, I'm fully aware that I'm being a prick).**

**Anyway, I'm afraid I can't shed any light on the reason for Remus's sudden change of heart—unless he finally wised up to Padfoot's and my advice. Though why he'd take two months to do so is beyond me. Either way, it's good to hear he's stopped being an idiot. Now Sirius and I can resume that role without feeling guilty. It was rather boring being the ones who had to be rational all the time.**

**Every time you mention your sister, I'm glad my parents never subjected me to siblingdom. I have to admit, I'd have been pretty hard to top, so it's understandable that they stopped having children after me. Back to Petunia, though—I'm intrigued by the notion of someone willing to date her; you must tell me more about this unimaginable bloke.**

**James**

* * *

James,

I just spent the last **several **minutes (Really, it was at least five—does that satisfy your requirements? And I'm still going to call you a prick, by the way, even if you did admit to it.) staring at your name on the top of this parchment. No, not because I miss you so terribly or something nausea-inducing like that. It's just . . . well, it looks quite . . . odd, sitting up there. I guess I'm so used to calling you 'Potter' that using 'James' almost makes it seem like I'm talking to a different person. How's that for a confession? No, not very exciting, I know. I can almost see your eyes glazing over as you read this, because honestly, who cares?

Right. So, before this letter is completely filled with useless ramblings, I have another (more interesting) confession: I've always pictured you having several brothers and sisters. No idea why—I knew you were an only child, and you've told me so before, but for some reason it's still strange to hear it. You're sure you don't have some older brother you never talk about because he . . . I don't know . . . works for the Russian mafia and you've been sworn to secrecy? Okay, probably not. See, this is what happens to me over the summer—without any structure to my life and ample motivation to spend as much time alone in my room as possible, I find myself with too much time to think. And sometimes it leads to mild insanity. Well, at the very least, do you have any pets?

Let's see, what else? Oh, right—my sister's boyfriend. His name is Vernon Dursley, and he works at this company that makes drills—Muggles use them to bore holes in the ground so . . . well, your eyes will only glaze over again if I start describing it, so I'll leave it at that. Anyway, the point is he's not remotely interesting. Or polite (at least not to me). Or attractive. Essentially, he has nothing going for him in my book.

Lily

* * *

**Lily,**

**I've only just stopped laughing at your question about pets long enough to actually be able to write back. You see, Sirius lives with me during the summer—**and he does NOT appreciate the 'pet' joke**—er, sorry, that was Sirius, he grabbed the quill away from me for a moment. Anyway, as to the other question, no, no familial connections to the Russian mob—be quite cool, though, wouldn't it?**

**And if you want to keep calling me 'Potter', I won't mind. I mean, blokes call their friends by their last names all the time, don't they? Er, not that I think of you as a bloke, or anything.**

**As for Vernon—point taken. If you'd like any prank ideas, you know who to ask.**

**James**

* * *

_Lily,_

_No brilliant strokes of inspirations have . . . er, struck me about Remus since we left the train. I guess it will always be a mystery. Of course, you could always just ask him about it. Or, if that's unappealing, James or Sirius might be able to tell you something. Anyway, the point is, he forgave you, which is all that really matters._

_Since I'm not travelling this summer, and since A.J. is (leaving you in a state of extreme sorrow and listlessness, I'm sure—or at least, I would be sure if it was anyone but you), we will definitely have to get together. Any suggestions?_

_Well, I better go—mum's calling me for dinner. Miss you already!_

_Mary_

* * *

Mary,

I'm sorry it took so long for me to write you back—I've been wallowing in a pit of self-despair (Petunia-induced—and Vernon-induced, for that matter) and treacle tart withdrawal (my Mum's just isn't the same as Hogwarts's. Merlin I'm spoiled). Combine this with the absurdly hot weather we've been having and the fact that my second-story bedroom faces east (thus making it the hottest room in the house), and I've consequently had too little energy to pick up a quill, much less form coherent sentences.

But I've overcome these difficulties to write to you, my best friend. So, I hope this makes you feel wanted and important. Anyway, Potter had no insights into Remus's sudden return to the state of being my friend either. Oh, right, you wouldn't know that I've been writing to him. Well, I have. Yes, let the teasing and knowing glances commence (except I won't really be able to see the latter. However, I have exceptional trust in your ability to convey such things in a letter).

How's your summer been? And yes, PLEASE give me an excuse to leave the house. Fancy meeting up in Diagon Alley sometime this week? Or anywhere beyond a mile radius of my house, really; I'm not picky.

Lily

P.S. Just to clarify before you bite my head off, I haven't written to Potter in between receiving your letter and writing this reply. He just happened to send me an owl _less than a day _after term ended. I know—clingy much?

* * *

_Lily,_

_I must inform you that teasing and knowing glances concerning you and James are far below my dignity now. I'm hurt that you'd think me so immature. Though you have made it a **bit **difficult by mentioning his strangely prompt and out-of-character letter._

_Anyway, Diagon Alley sounds perfect. Name a time and place, and I'll be there. And, if my memory serves me, I seem to recall you mentioning something about Clary visiting this summer… I haven't forgotten how much fun we had last time, and wouldn't object to a repeat of the experience!_

_Mary_

* * *

Potter,

Hey, sorry it took me so long to get back to you this time (hmm, feeling a strange sense of déjà vu…probably because I just wrote the same thing to Mary. In fact, she is partially to blame for my late response, since I had to write her back first. On principle, you know, since she's my best friend).

Anyway, I'm glad we've got the name thing straightened out. Though I suppose another option is, I could just call you 'Prongs' and you could call me . . . er . . . something equally clever. I know you don't have any animalistic inspirations to stimulate your creative nicknaming skills, but I trust you can think of something. After all, you're the one who said I needed a nickname.

Okay, clearly the too-much-time-to-think insanity is creeping up on me again . . . Good thing my cousin's coming to visit in two weeks. She's always a laugh. And actually _likes _being around me. And makes fun of my sister with me. So it's a win-win-win. If that's possible.

Lily

P.S. I can't believe you let Sirius into your house. Are you sure he's house trained? Either way, the two of you together all summer with unlimited free time? Your poor mother.

* * *

**Lily,**

**I spent longer than I care to admit trying to come up with a nickname for you—since you already rejected 'Lilykins', you know. 'Ginger' seemed too obvious, so then I tried to think of something else related to the whole red hair thing. But that led no where, so I went the brainy-yet-sometimes-annoying-and-known-to-blow-up-at-a-moment's-notice route instead. Nothing. I know, I thought that avenue would provide significant inspiration. Alas, you appear to be un-nicknameable.**

**As far as calling me Prongs . . . I'm afraid we're not _that_ close of friends, sorry. (Okay, I only wrote that last bit because Sirius was reading this over my shoulder—apparently he has nothing better to do than sensor my mail . . . anyway, I think he'd be offended if you started calling me Prongs—Marauder loyalty and all that.)**

**Is your cousin fit?**

**James**

**P.S. I'm glad you brought the second conversation back. You shot it down last time, so I was hesitant to start it again. Anyway, Sirius is now shunning you for your house trained joke (though I'm not sure how effective it's going to be, since he doesn't see you over the summer anyway). I, however, thought it was quite funny, and tip my invisible hat to you.**

* * *

A.J.,

I had this weird urge to write 'Angus' as the opener, just to piss you off. Though I suppose I've achieved that anyway, having written it just now. Good way to start a letter to one's boyfriend, hmm? I rather thought so.

Anyway, as I'm sure your life is far more exciting than mine at the moment (it's not hard to be, trust me), I'm planning on living vicariously through you to survive this summer. So, I'm expecting a lengthy reply detailing all of your adventures in la bonita España. Of primary interest is why you have relatives in Spain at all? Guess that never really struck me as odd when you originally told me about the trip, but it does now.

Speaking of relatives, my Mum's sister and her daughter (who is one of my favorite cousins) are coming to stay with us next week. Last time Clarice (my cousin) was here, she forced me to go out in London with her and get completely smashed (well, okay, she was the one so intoxicated she could barely remember her own name, while I remained dignifiedly sober). Nevertheless, I'm sure I'll have many entertaining stories for you after this week is up. So, look forward to that. Er, that was meant to be a bit sarcastic, by the way, as I'm sure you don't really care about my mad cousin. There really needs to be a way to convey sarcasm in writing . . .

Lily

* * *

_**Lily,**_

_**I can't believe you mentioned the A-word. I'd never have thought you would stoop so low. In fact, I may never be able to speak to you again.**_

_**Okay, well, that lasted about two seconds. What can I say, I just don't have any self-restraint when it comes to you. Hmm—just as it's difficult to convey sarcasm in a letter, it's equally challenging to write suggestively. It actually comes off a bit creepy, now that I read it over. Oh well.**_

_**I'm insulted that you think I wouldn't care about your mad cousin. I love mad people (why do you think I'm dating you?). You had better tell me everything she does, AND you better have some interesting stories yourself—er, not TOO crazy, mind; I don't like the idea of you flirting with tons of other blokes. I know, I'm kind of a jealous boyfriend; you'll just have to forgive this minor character flaw.**_

_**Right. My Spanish relatives. Well, first of all, they're not Spanish. They just happen to live in Spain. My uncle works with the wizarding bank there, and he travels to London fairly often to meet with wizards and goblins at Gringotts, so we see him pretty regularly. But I haven't seen my aunt and cousins in years, so it's been fun catching up with them. So far, we've had a tour of Madrid (both on foot by day and by magic carpet at night—they're still legal here). My cousins are really into salsa dancing, so we've gone out a few nights to some clubs. You'd die laughing if you could see my dismal attempts to salsa. My cousins mysteriously disappear whenever I'm out on the floor—from embarrassment, I'm sure. I think those are pretty much the highlights . . . oh, we're going to a concert in a bullfighting ring (minus the bulls, of course) tomorrow night. Some group called Los Labios (sounds cool in Spanish, but it just means "The Lips"… I'm a little skeptical, but my cousin Tony swears by these blokes, so it should be good, I guess).**_

_**Miss you,**_

_**A.J.**_

* * *

A.J.,

I laughed anyway, just picturing you trying to salsa. But then I sobered quickly when I imagined myself doing any type of dancing. And you've actually seen that. So I think you owe me a demonstration of your skills when the summer is over. We'll impress everyone at the first Quidditch after party (of course, we'll have to make sure they're appropriately drunk first).

Thanks for the flowers! Though you were worried lilies were a cliché choice, never fear—they're my favorite flower (which, mind you, is more cliché I think). I'm still trying to work out how you got them here without them sustaining any damage, considering you're underage . . . you haven't been doing anything illegal, have you? Well, now I just sound like your mother. And referring to you as 'underage' has made me feel like a cougar.

Moving on . . . Last Saturday, Mary, Andrew, Clarice and I went out to Clary's favorite club. Surprisingly, Clary only snogged three strangers, and I think she was drunk enough that she won't remember the accidental references Mary, Andrew and I made to Hogwarts/Quidditch. The Statute of Secrecy is overrated anyway, right? Unfortunately, no interesting stories on my end from that night, though I was asked to dance by several rather attractive blokes (incidentally, two of them became Clary's snogees later). I turned them all down though, don't worry.

Lily

* * *

Potter,

Well, fair enough (about the Prongs thing). And I guess I'm all right without a nickname—after I sent that letter, I sort of regretted asking, as I could only imagine you would manage to think of an incredibly annoying one. But it appears I'm safe from that.

Anyway, like I said, my cousin's been here for the past few days. On Saturday, we—Clary, Mary, Andrew and I—went to a club called The Underworld (less ominous than it sounds). The band playing that night was called Black Rebel Motorcycle Club—I thought Sirius might appreciate that, for several reasons (by the way, has he bought a motorcycle yet, or was that all just talk?). They were fairly descent actually. And since you asked about my cousin (as far as her 'attractiveness' factor—well, you'll have to decide that for yourself), I did you the honor of telling her about you . . . and she wants to meet you. I know, I was shocked myself. I thought she had better taste than that.

In other news, I passed my Apparition test yesterday. Though it doesn't really do me any good, as I have no where to go. Still, it's sort of cool just knowing I _could _Apparate if I wanted to.

Lily

P.S. You didn't really give me anything to go on to further this conversation, so I'll just share something you can tease A.J. about when we get back to school: He sent me lilies.

* * *

**Lily,**

**Congrats on the Apparition license—I got mine a couple of weeks ago as well, and debated for a moment simply Apparating to your house to demonstrate my skills. But then I realized I don't know where you live . . . wow, you're right, I _am_ stalking you . . . sorry.**

**And don't lie, Evans—one, you're bad at it, and two, I already know you think I'm attractive, remember? So I'm not buying a word about your cousin's alleged 'poor taste.' As far as meeting her . . . well, I wouldn't object.**

**Sirius has indeed purchased a motorcycle, and is currently in the process of enchanting it to fly. Yes, you read that correctly.**

**James**

**P.S. Even though I'd prefer something to tease _you_ about (though I suppose I don't really need help with that, as you usually provide me with ample material sans any effort on my part), I did laugh at Rookie's choice of flower. I hope he was being ironic. Even so, you don't really strike me as a flowers type of girl (you know, despite your name and all).**

* * *

Potter,

I probably never would have spoken to you again if you'd Apparated to my house unannounced. And that would just be a shame, since I rather enjoy being friends with you (there, I've admitted it). Anyway, not only would it most _definitely_ have qualified as stalking, it would also probably earn you a stint in Azkaban (since I live among Muggles, you may recall). Though I'm not sure if that second point serves as a proper deterrent for you—you'd probably just brag about it after you got out.

A _flying _motorcycle? Dear Merlin, what's the point of that? Sound like more of a danger than it's worth to me—what's wrong with a broomstick? Well, several things, actually, but I don't have time to get into that right now. In fact, I don't have time to get into much of anything right now, as Mum's _demanding _that I help her prepare dinner (The Slug—er, that's Vernon, by the way; did I mention he's, er, a bit on the large side?—is dining with us tonight. If I survive, I'll finish this letter afterwards).

(afterwards)

Oh my God. Petunia. And Vernon. Are engaged. He asked her after dinner . . . excuse me while I throw myself off a cliff.

And it's just started to rain. Perfect.

Lily

P.S. Merlin, we're actually going to be _related_! Yes, better make it an extra-tall cliff . . . maybe one over shark-infested waters, just to be safe.

* * *

**Aw, Evans, you _do_ care! Er, and please don't throw yourself off a cliff . . . who would I argue with? Or mock? Or annoy? My life would be so dull.**

**Sirius would like to inform you that he does not see the point of doing something if it doesn't involve a bit of risk—this won't surprise you, I'm sure. And, having ridden on the motorcycle myself (yes, it is fully functional now—that is, it flies), I can assure you that it is perfectly safe. Probably. I mean, I wouldn't let a small child fly it, but for all practical purposes (you know, joy rides and general recklessness), it's a marvelous invention. I'm only disappointed I never thought of it myself. But then, Sirius always did have a weird obsession with motorcycles.**

**I'm impressed and a little shocked that you call your sister's you-know-what (sorry to remind you of it again) 'The Slug.' I didn't know you could be so cruel and insensitive, Evans. Wait, no—of course I did.**

**James**

**P.S. Congrats on your Head Girl-ship.**

* * *

Potter,

Glad to hear that I'm the main source of excitement in your life (yes, you're right—that was meant to be sarcastic . . . haven't used much of that this time around, actually. Hmm, I must rectify that).

I can only imagine the sorts of hijinks and shenanigans (don't you love those words?) you and Sirius will get up to now that you have a _flying motorcycle_. Watch out world.

Sorry, I haven't got much else in the way of news, nor do I feel like inventing some just to fill up the space. I hope you can forgive me (ha, I knew I could fit some sarcasm in before the end).

Lily

P.S. How did you know I'd been made Head Girl? I feel that bringing up the stalking business again is rather redundant, and yet . . . Well, thanks for the congratulations, anyway. You wouldn't happen to know who the Head Boy is, would you?

* * *

**Lily,**

**Funny you should mention shenanigans—we did have a, er, bit of an incident with some Muggle police the other day. Remind me to tell you about it when we get back to Hogwarts. Which, incidentally, is a mere two weeks away. Strange as it is, even to me, I'm actually looking forward to going back. Maybe it's because I know we only have one year left until freedom!**

**I'm assuming this will be my last letter to you, so I'd just like to say that it has, once again, been a pleasure writing to you. Somehow you're much more agreeable on paper than in person . . .**

**James**

**P.S. I just assumed you'd get Head Girl. As far as our mysterious Head Boy—it's not Remus, if that's what you're asking.**

* * *

Potter,

Yes, it's probably because it's easier to imagine you as a lovely, charming person when I'm not actually standing in your presence. However, the letters have been my pleasure.

Until September first,

Lily

P.S. Damn, I was sure it would be him. Now I'm extra curious . . . it better not be someone horrible. For instance, if it were Michael Smet, I really would have to jump off a cliff. For several reasons. Now I'm looking forward to the train back much less.

* * *

**Lily,**

**Okay, I lied. That wasn't my last letter. But I just had to say, I don't know what you're talking about—I _am _a lovely and charming person.**

**See you on the train.**

**James**

**P.S. I would completely understand your suicidal urges if that were the case. In fact, I would assist you in finding a suitable cliff.**

**

* * *

A/N: Okay, just a few clarifications/fun facts. Well, not a few. Two. Anyway, just as a reminder (because I'm sure people don't remember this random person mentioned like once), Michael Smet was Lily's first, memorably bad, kiss.**

**Second, the club Lily mentions going to is a real club. Well, I think it is, anyway. I Googled "London nightclubs," and the name "The Underground" caught my eye. When I clicked on the link, ****Black Rebel Motorcycle Club was in the list of bands performing that night, and I immediately thought of Sirius, so I decided to include it in this story. So, there you go.**

**Okay, I lied, one more thing. Mary's letters are sort of "filler" and I apologize for that—for some reason I couldn't get her 'voice' right in letter form . . . if that makes any sense at all ;)**


	26. Surreal

**A/N: As always, thanks to last week's reviewers: Nathymoonybr (yeah, I used to be more regular with updates, but as of late, I've gotten off because of holidays and such), I'm A Cuckoo, Meeeee (don't die! I hope you're feeling better), jak23, junebugbug96, tardisinthesgc, harrypotter713 (I DO feel awesome, haha—thanks!), teenage-witch94, AliLuvsAlli-Sirius, Silver Scorpion, emcee31, Vanillaberries, hpfan (wow, that's pretty harsh! No, don't worry, I'm not planning on killing A.J. off), Cassie Weasley, Cledism is my religion, Jassy Smiley, hoperocks98, skazmi, movinggirl, WhereIsMyThumpThump, kikicakes, Evisawesome, Tabbycat270, marinewife08, maximum destined potter, emotionsonhold, Miss larien, ottoismydog, Molly Raesly (I love Gilmore Girls!), Elless, IIManzaII, WobblyJelly, BrokenFaerie16, ZoneSystems, EchoNightFall22, steel-trap, brittanyxedward, theycallherkaush, PoseidonsLittleGirl, Hope, and Nathymoony (you and that first reviewer have REALLY similar names! I thought it was the same person at first….haha).**

**Not too much to say this week, so enjoy the first chapter of seventh year!**

**

* * *

Chapter 25: Surreal**

I paused as I picked up the large stack of papers on my desk, debating whether to simply toss the letters or attempt to shove them into my overflowing trunk. Somehow, my things always seemed to expand over the summer holidays, and I could never pack them back in as neatly as before. I sat down on my bed and absently began to sort the mail, stopping to contemplate the result: one letter to Mary, two to A.J. and seven to James. That wasn't weird, right?

Sighing, I finally decided that as the letters represented a portion of the few bright spots of my summer, I folded them up and tucked them into a pocket of one of my spare sets of robes. Successfully closing my trunk, I swept my gaze once more around my small bedroom to ensure I wasn't forgetting anything.

"Lily, you better hurry!" Mum shouted from downstairs.

Glancing at my bedside clock, I smiled. It was only ten. Granted, this was when we normally departed for King's Cross—Mum hadn't quite grasped the fact that I could now arrive there instantly. And she'd always hated being late . . .

"Coming, Mum," I called back to satisfy her nerves. _Might as well get there early—not like I've anything else to do._

**OOOOOOOO**

I appeared in the appointed Apparition point for of-age students travelling to platform nine and three-quarters. Smiling in satisfaction at a successful first official Apparition, I pushed my luggage into the station, buffeted slightly by the crowd as I made my way to the wall between platforms nine and ten. Strangely, I felt nervous as I strolled nonchalantly towards the magical barrier, and I knew it had nothing to do with doubt about getting through—I'd done it countless times, so that walking through an apparently solid wall was now essentially second nature. No, try as I might, I couldn't explain my fluttering stomach.

Trying to ignore it, I started for the scarlet train before me, stopping when I spotted the back of a familiar, messy-haired head off to my right. To my surprise, my stomach turned over at the sight. _Wait, I'm nervous about seeing _James? _What is wrong with you, Lily? _But before I could analyze this oddity further, Potter glanced over and, spotting me, called out, "Hey Evans!" He waved me over to where he, Sirius, and Peter were loitering near the train. I was momentarily relieved that Remus was not with them, before remembering that I didn't need to avoid him anymore. _Weird_, I thought, still stymied as to why he'd forgiven me.

As I neared the three Marauders, I abandoned my hold on my luggage cart, and, before I could think too much about it, gave James a quick hug. His eyebrows were raised slightly in surprise as I pulled back, but he didn't say anything. Now feeling a little awkward, I turned quickly to Sirius and Peter. "How were your summers?"

"Fine," Peter answered. "Too short, though."

I nodded, though I couldn't agree less. Noticing that Sirius was regarding me with an uncharacteristic coolness, I raised an eyebrow. "Still, shunning me, hmm?"

He continued to stare at me impassively for a moment, then grinned and grabbed me up in a hug. "Nah—I just never really got to do it in person, so . . ."

I rolled my eyes. "You're ridiculous. Speaking of ridiculous things," I added, a thought suddenly occurring to me, "you all didn't happen to arrive by flying motorcycle, did you?"

Sirius sighed. "Alas, no, we didn't. Had to Apparate—I figured there really wouldn't be room for a motorcycle on the train, so I had to leave it at Prongs's."

"And hope that my Mum won't destroy it while we're gone," James put in with a smirk.

"Have you ridden on it yet?" I asked Peter, figuring I might get a more accurate picture of how 'safe' it apparently was from him.

The Marauder shook his head. "No, Padfoot hadn't finished with it when I was visiting," he replied, sounding disappointed.

_Am I the only one who sees the potential disaster written all over this? Probably._ Choosing to keep my comments to myself, because I knew they'd only lead to James teasing me, I asked him instead, "Didn't you say you had a story to tell me about said motorcycle?"

He frowned for a moment, then his eyes lit up. "Right. I think you'll want to sit down for this, maybe grab some popcorn . . ." And with that, he directed his wand at my luggage and began to levitate it towards the train.

Once the four of us were seated in an empty compartment—one of the perks of arriving so early was that it wasn't hard to find—James leaned forward on his knees and began, "It was a dark and stormy night . . ."

"No it wasn't," Peter and I said in unison.

"Well, all right—but it was dark. I mean, obviously, since it was night." He frowned. "In fact, I've never really thought about it before, but that phrase doesn't—"

"Okay, you're taking too long; I'm taking over," Sirius cut in. "So, we were bored one night, and decided to take my genius invention out for a spin. Everything was going swimmingly—I mean, we'd almost hit a bird by accident, and I think an old Muggle woman might have spotted us when we flew over her house, but all things considered . . ."

"Merlin, you two," I muttered.

"Anyway, just as we were thinking of heading back to my house," James said, reclaiming the story, "these three blokes on brooms appeared out of no where and tried to hex us out of the sky."

"What?" I said. I hadn't expected the story to take this sort of turn.

"Who were they?" Peter asked.

James and Sirius exchanged glances. "Probably just some stupid teenagers having a laugh," James said finally. When I opened my mouth to ask him who he really thought they were—as I was sure he was lying—he forestalled me by adding, "Yes, Evans, I know you think Padfoot and I can't make qualified judgments about who is or is not a stupid teenager—"

"I wasn't—" I started, but this time it was Sirius who overrode me.

"At any rate, they must not have had much practice pursuing a target, since we ditched them pretty easily. Even so, I figured we'd probably have an advantage travelling the normal way, you know, to throw them off, but nearly the minute we touched down, we had the Muggle police on our tail."

"Hang on, you're not making this up, are you?" I interrupted.

Sirius frowned at me. "Why would we do that?"

"We hardly need help building our already infamous reputations, Evans," James added.

I rolled my eyes. "Fine, continue."

"Right. Well, of course we had to have a bit of fun with the blokes—"

"Of course," I muttered dryly.

"—so we took them on a high-speed chase for a while—"

"—but naturally they'd never be able to catch us, so just to let them feel useful, we turned down a dead end on purpose."

I almost had to laugh at how animatedly the two Marauders were relaying their adventure and the way they kept talking over each other. And even though I was still half-convinced they'd invented the entire thing, I was drawn in nonetheless.

"They were blathering on about how we'd been going too fast and should have had helmets on or some such rot," Sirius said. "And even though we wouldn't have paid attention anyway, we didn't really have a choice, because those idiots on broomsticks had somehow caught up with us again." He turned to James. "You want to finish up with the impressive ending, Prongs?" he offered with a wink.

"Nothing could please me more, Padfoot," James replied. "So, lucky we'd let those policemen chase us, actually, because we just levitated their car and our three pursuers smashed right into it! Then we hopped back on Sirius's bike and rode off into the sunset. Or we would have, if it had been a couple hours earlier. But you get the idea."

Silence reigned for a few moments, until I said, "So, overlooking the fact that you probably broke several laws—Muggle and wizarding, mind—I'm still confused about who those people on broomsticks were."

"Like I said, we never really got a good look at them," James answered. "They were wearing masks—"

"You mean like . . . Death Eaters?" Peter inquired, sounding a little fearful. I had to admit, the thought had crossed my mind as well.

But both James and Sirius scoffed at the idea. "Couldn't've been," Sirius said confidently. "I mean, they weren't exactly the brightest lot."

"Well, that doesn't really have anything to—I mean, they _did_ try to knock you out of the air," I pointed out. "And the type of people who would do that 'just for a laugh' . . ."

But neither Sirius nor James had a chance to reply to that ominous pronouncement, because the compartment door banged open at that moment on an extremely irate Mary.

"Oh, so I've been replaced, I see," she huffed, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring around at the four of us.

James grinned at her. "'Course not, McDonald," he said, pulling me to my feet and pushing me toward my best friend. "Lily just got here early and was forced to slum it with us until—"

"Excuse me," Sirius said indignantly. "Slum it with _you _maybe, but—"

"Now, now, boys," I said with a wry smile, "you've already fought over a girl, and you remember how well that went."

James's jaw dropped as he pretended to look offended. "Just for that, I'm kicking you out," he said, and slid the compartment door shut once more.

I rolled my eyes, but couldn't help the smile that curved my lips as I turned to Mary. "You're not really mad, are you?"

She sighed dramatically. "I guess not. Anyway, I want to hear how the rest of the week with Clary was—so I suppose it wouldn't really work to stay mad."

"How selfless of you," I said dryly, but I linked my arm with hers nevertheless as we started down the corridor. "Well, unfortunately there's nothing exciting to report—Mum tweaked out a little when we got back so late after being out with you and Andrew, so we laid low for the remainder of her visit, just to play it safe."

"Fair enough. I'm just sorry I never met her before this summer."

"I know, she's great, isn't she? Sometimes I wish she went to Hogwarts. Though I suppose I'd get far less work done if she did."

Mary raised her eyebrows. "Which would be more effective therapy for you than anything I could ever think up."

I pulled my arm from hers to give her a retaliatory shove. "Ha, ha," I said sarcastically. "I thought you were always saying last year you were proud of how much I'd 'grown'?"

"You know, you're right. My apologies, dear," Mary replied with a sweet smile.

As we started walking again, I looked up to see Remus approaching us in the corridor. My stomach fluttered nervously; now that I actually saw him again, I was suddenly afraid that I might have just imagined his apology at the end of last year, unexpected as it had been. Not that it had been a _direct _apology, per say . . . but then again, he really had nothing to apologize for.

However, I needn't have worried, because he greeted both Mary and I, smiling at us as he passed.

Curiosity getting the better of me, I asked Mary, "Find us a compartment, will you? I'll be right there."

"Sure," she agreed.

"You're the best," I told her with a grin.

"I know," she said mildly, shrugging.

"Hey, Remus!" I called, hurrying after his retreating form.

He turned and looked at me questioningly.

"I, um, just wanted to—er, are we . . . okay, now?"

Remus grinned. "'Course—you didn't think I was _that _good an actor, did you?"

I wasn't quite sure how to answer that, so I just said jokingly, "So, what, you just got tired of hating me?"

"Actually, yes," he replied, to my surprise. "And I didn't hate you—"

I waved a dismissive hand. "Let's not bother with the details . . . But I really am sorry, you kn—" I started seriously.

"I know, Lily," Remus cut in, a little exasperatedly. "I meant what I said early on last year, that I'm glad we're friends," he added with a smile.

I smiled back.

"Oh, and congratulations on the Head Girl thing—Prongs told me," he explained, before I could ask.

"Right—I'm surprised you're not Head Boy; I thought for sure . . ."

Remus shrugged. "I don't mind. Besides," he continued, a mischievous grin lighting his features, "it's far more amusing that J—"

"Lily!"

I spun to find A.J. hurrying towards me. Realizing, I'd cut Remus off, I turned back again. "Sorry, what were you saying?"

"No, it wasn't important," he said. "See you at the feast."

"Yeah, see you," I said a little distractedly, gasping in surprise as A.J. grabbed me up in a hug, spinning me around before setting me back on the ground and giving me a long kiss of greeting.

"Missed you," he said as we broke apart.

I raised my eyebrows. "I can see that," I said with a grin. "I missed you too," I added.

We ducked into an empty compartment just as the train lurched to life and started to pull slowly away from the platform. I glanced out the window at all the parents and younger siblings waving furiously as their loved ones slipped out of sight. To my surprise, I felt a little pang of sadness that my parents—for the first time—weren't among them.

"You all right, Lily?" A.J. asked.

I shook myself slightly and smiled at him. "Yeah—I think it's just starting to hit me that this is my last year at Hogwarts." As I said the words, a thrill of fear went through me; I'd never actually thought about my life after school. _Well, don't panic now—you've got the entire year to figure it out_, I assured myself.

"Suppose it's better than realizing it at the end of the year," A.J. pointed out, shrugging.

"True." I looked at him, and an unspoken question of what the end of this year would mean for us seemed to hang in the air. Or maybe I was just imagining things. Again, not exactly something to worry about on the first day back. I tried to think of a change of subject, but A.J. beat me to it.

"So, I need to get my broom fixed—my cousin ran it into a tree when he was flying it over the summer," he rolled his eyes, the expression on his face making it clear he regretted letting his cousin borrow the broom. "D'you think I'd have time to head into Hogsmeade quick when we arrive to drop it off at Bennigan's Broomsticks?"

"Doubt it," I said skeptically, while at the same time feeling a niggling in my brain at something he'd said. "Unless you want to walk up to the castle by yourself, and risk suffering McGonagall's wrath for being late to the feast."

A.J. sighed, leaning back against the train seat. "Well, I'm sure there won't be a Hogsmeade weekend until after Quidditch tryouts, so . . ." He sighed again. "If only McGonagall wasn't such a strict Head of House . . ."

There it was again. I frowned, feeling like I was forgetting something important . . . Suddenly I shot up from my seat, causing A.J. to raise his eyebrows in surprise. "I have to go!" I announced. "I forgot, I've got a Head meeting right now—"

"A Head—" A.J. started in confusion, but then his face lit with comprehension. "Oh, you're Head Girl? Why didn't you say so straight away?"

"I—well, I don't know," I said absentmindedly, pulling my badge out of my pocket to pin it to my shirt. "I guess I forgot you didn't know."

"Here," A.J. said as I continued to fumble with the badge. His hands replaced mine and he pushed the clasp shut with a small click.

"Thanks," I said.

A.J. regarded me seriously. "Well, guess I'll have to behave myself this year, won't I?"

I stared back at him just as solemnly. "I daresay you will."

"And what will you do if I don't?" he said quietly, slipping his arms around my waist.

Little shivers ran down my arms, but the fact that I was late for my first duties as Head Girl permitted me to push A.J. away gently. "Seriously, I have to go. But can you do me a favor?" I didn't wait for him to reply before continuing, "Find Mary and tell her I'm sorry for ditching her?"

A.J. sighed in disappointment. "Fine," he said resignedly.

I planted a quick kiss on his cheek. "Thank you. And I'll find you again as soon as I'm done, I promise!" I added as I slid out of the compartment door into the already crowded corridor.

Dodging a group of fourth year boys who were showing off with a load of Zonko's products and the pack of giggling girls who were watching them—I didn't have time to hand out any punishments just yet—I crossed into the front car of the Express. Hurrying up to the compartment across from the one where Remus and I had received our instructions as prefects last year, I opened it . . . and stopped immediately in the doorway in surprise. James was lounging in one of the empty seats, hands behind his head and legs propped on the opposite seat.

He grinned when he saw me, sitting up a little straighter and crossing his arms over his chest instead. "You're late, Evans—not a very auspicious start to your Headship."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Oh shut up—I'm still the first one here. And what are you doing here, anyway? Just couldn't stay away from me?" I teased, thinking as I said it how strange the words sounded coming out of my mouth. If it had been a year ago, I would have been complaining about that very thing.

"Ah, don't flatter yourself Evans; you know I wouldn't be here if I didn't have to."

I frowned. "What do y—" But I stopped abruptly as James shifted in his seat, and a ray of sunlight flashed off a gold badge on his chest. A badge with the letters 'HB' on it . . .

"No way," I said bluntly. James's grin morphed into a smirk, and a disbelieving smile spread across my face in return. "You're joking, right? I mean, this is some sort of—of prank you all thought up?"

"Hey, now," James said indignantly, "what is that supposed to mean?"

"That Dumbledore, as the most brilliant wizard to ever live, would never make you Head Boy."

Instead of looking more offended, Potter just wrinkled his nose. "Yeah, I know—that's what I thought at first, too. And then I thought that maybe Padfoot'd done it as a joke, but he looked so shocked when I told him I was forced to accept that it had actually happened. Even so, he's only just stopped laughing about it every time he sees me," James added in a resentful voice.

I finally recovered enough to sit down, taking the seat next to James's feet and copying his posture. "Well, if you really are telling the truth—and I suppose I don't have much choice but to accept that you are—all I've got to say is you're lucky we've made so much progress this past year, or I might have thrown you out the window already."

"Lucky, indeed," James said, raising his eyebrows. "So, where shall we start?"

"I don't know—I've never been Head Girl before," I said cheekily.

"Well, I think we should start with your tardiness," James said seriously. "I mean, we have to set a precedent now, or—"

I nudged him with my foot. "Stop it; I'm just waiting for you to mess up on an even grander scale."

"It's so nice to know I have your complete trust and confidence."

"No problem. Right, so I suppose we've got to work out prefect schedules eventually, but that could wait if need be. And—"

"Sorry, but could we just go over what exactly this position entails?" James interrupted.

I frowned at him. "Didn't you read the letter? It was all in there."

"Come on, Evans, remember who you're talking to. Besides, that thing was bloody long."

I sighed. "You do have to take this seriously, you know. I mean, I don't want to sound like a prude, and, despite what I said before, I do think you'll be good at this, but—"

James grinned. "There's the support I was looking for. And I'll do my best to deal with the responsibility bit—I'm not going to pretend it isn't going to take some getting used to, especially with Sirius taunting me about it every five seconds . . ."

"At least you'll have your own room."

James appeared not to hear me. "And I swear, if he doesn't—what?"

I smiled slightly. "You get your own room," I repeated slowly.

"Wait, what?"

Laughing now, I said, "That was one of the things in that 'bloody long' letter—Head Boy and Girl have single rooms."

James stared at me for a moment, then grinned mischievously. "Oh, I think I can find several uses for that."

"Please, spare me the details," I muttered. "Anyway, I think we could start talking about Hogsmeade dates, since—"

"So, you finally agreeing to go out with me, Evans?" James asked, smirking.

I glared at him. "No, I was actually talking about _scheduling _them, but . . . I can't believe you asked me out again!"

James laughed. "Come on, where's your sense of nostalgia?"

"Remember what you said about doing your best to—"

"Okay, okay, Hogsmeade visits."

"Well, A.J. wants one before Quidditch trials, because he needs to get his broom fixed."

"He doesn't need it."

"What?"

"I mean, obviously he'll need it eventually, if he doesn't want to use a school broom for our first match—which I would never allow, because I honestly think those brooms were made in the dark by a blind troll, the way they—"

"Potter, you're rambling," I interrupted.

"Right, sorry," he said with a quick grin. "Anyway, the point is I never try out old teammates again—takes too long. I just find people who fit with those I already have. Sure it pisses a lot of others off, but . . ." he shrugged.

"Since when have you cared about pissing people off?" I suggested.

"Exactly. All right, one bonus is that we can schedule Hogsmeade visits whenever we want—"

"Well, we have to run it by McGonagall first." I dropped my feet off the seat across from me and pushed myself up straight.

"Ah. So, basically, we have the illusion of power, but in reality we have no power at all."

"Unfortunately, that pretty much sums it up. And we have to do rounds every night."

"_Every _night?" James repeated in disbelief.

"Except Sunday," I said, nodding.

"How long?"

"Just two hours."

"_Just_—well, now I understand why you'd've thrown me out the window before, with the prospect of being forced to spend so much time in my company." He sighed. "Merlin, that's going to be boring. Although, I will have you to brighten it up, Flower." James added with a wink.

"Please tell me that's not my new nickname—I thought you gave up on finding one?"

"I don't know," he said, brows furrowed in consideration. "I think it rather suits you."

"I think it's rather unoriginal. Plus, it annoys me," I muttered.

James grinned. "Even better."

"You're regressing, Potter."

Ignoring this, James said, "So, what else?"

"What else what? Oh, you mean our other Head duties."

"No, no—that part's just depressing me. What're some of the other perks?"

I rolled my eyes, but complied with the request anyway. "Well, let's see . . . we can use the Prefect's bathroom, and I know that doesn't sound incredibly cool, but don't judge until you've seen it. Because it is pretty amazing."

"Maybe you could show it to me sometime, then," James said with a wicked grin.

"Would you stop it?" I demanded, leaning forward to punch him on the arm, even as I fought a smile. "Seriously, Potter, what happened to you _not _flirting with me and asking me out every five seconds?"

"All right, I'm sorry—I guess I figured we were good enough friends now that I could start it up again without fear of getting hexed into next week for my efforts. I promise I won't do it often. Or around A.J."

I just glared at him. "I don't see why you have to do it at all." I felt like we were entering strange and dangerous territory, and it frightened me a bit that I wasn't completely set on getting us out of it.

When Potter just smirked at me in reply, I decided to change the subject. "You lied to me, by the way."

He pretended to look shocked. "Never!"

"Yes, you did," I insisted. "I asked if you knew who the Head Boy was, and you said that you didn't."

"No, you're remembering it wrong," Potter countered. "I believe the exact quote was 'it's not Remus, if that's what you mean.' And you never questioned me further, so . . ." He flashed a triumphant smile in response to my deepening glare.

"You really are impossible, you know."

"That's why we're going to have such fun this year!"

"Merlin help me."

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**A/N: Bit of a shorty this week, sorry. And I can't even claim half the plot, since I stole James and Sirius's summer adventure from that prequel JKR released a few years ago…..oh well. ****Also, I'm a bit iffy about this chapter...not really sure why. I like the L/J bit at the end, but the rest is sort of...meh. ****Anyway, next chapter will include a Marauder prank (b/c it's been ages since they've pulled one, so it's about time!) and Lily and James's first patrol duties as Heads, which don't exactly go as expected…..at least, not as Lily expected ;)**


	27. I Believe In You

**A/N: Thanks to last week's reviewers: maximum destined potter, WhereIsMyThumpThump, Abi, lollipopdiego, Kimberly Hart D.B.W. (yes, all will be explained in good time), Ellen Weasley, MissArtemisFowl, Graci-and-Cheri, expecto patronum 2809, Molly Raesly (I liked Logan in the beginning, but yes, I think Jess was ultimately the better of the two. Though he had his bad moments as well, of course. And no, A.J.'s not gay, haha.), kikicakes, tardisinthesgc, becauseimthefavorite, Silver Scorpion, WaveRider 53, Evisawesome, marinewife08, polarbear1355, Elless, Cassie Weasley, Hope, emandem, SucksRoyalHippogriff, SeriouslySiriusBlack, ZoneSystems, IIManzaII, Dancethroughlife, Meeeee, AliLuvsAlli-Sirius, leeease, Dawnsplash, WobblyJelly, PoseidonsLittleGirl, arelli-black, xLycheeRAiN, Marauder'sGirlCuzI'mUp2NoGood, EchoNightFall22, and Tabbycat270!**

**All right, we're finally getting back on the update every Sunday routine….at least, I think that was my old update date, for a while anyway. Enjoy!**

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Chapter 26:** **I Believe In You**

After we'd met with the older prefects, and after we'd instructed them to relay the usual information to the new prefects—because, as James had said, what was the point of having duties if you didn't delegate them?—and after I'd informed Potter that he was already letting the power go to his head, we finally parted ways.

Luckily, it didn't take me long to discover where A.J. had gone—he was only two compartments up from our original one, and even better, Mary and Andrew had joined him.

"Hi," I greeted A.J. with a kiss. "Mary, sorry I never found you—I forgot about my Head meeting; hi Andrew, how was your summer?" I said all this rather quickly, and the others just raised their eyebrows in response. "Sorry," I said again. "I'm just a little distracted by recent events, namely, the fact that James is Head Boy."

Mary and Andrew looked appropriately surprised by this, but A.J. just laughed and said, "Merlin, that's a blow to his reputation."

"Excuse me," I said, sniffing.

"As a Marauder, you know," A.J. explained. "And since you, Lil, aren't a prankster mastermind, the honor is deservingly bestowed," he finished with a little bow in my direction, to which I responded by elbowing him in the ribs.

"He would honestly be the last person I would have guessed if you'd asked me to predict who'd be Head Boy," Mary said. "Well, except perhaps Sirius."

"I know," I agreed. "I mean, I'd've even picked you, Andrew, before Potter."

"Er. . . thanks?" Mary's boyfriend responded uncertainly.

"Anyway, unexpected as it was, I actually think he'll be good at it," I said, earning myself a few raised eyebrows from the others. "I do," I insisted, and the subject was dropped.

"Well, did you coerce him into setting an early Hogsmeade date?" A.J. asked.

"No—he said you're back on the team automatically. He always keeps his old players, apparently."

"Lucky," Andrew muttered resentfully.

"That's not really on, is it?" Mary commented conversationally.

"It's Potter," I said with a shrug.

"I won't complain," A.J. added with a grin.

We passed the remainder of the train ride in the usual manner: catching up on each other's summers and stuffing ourselves with sweets from the food cart. It was nearly dark by the time we pulled into Hogsmeade station, and I was glad that my Head Girl duties didn't involve shepherding the first years to the boats that would take them up to the school. The departure of hundreds of students onto the platform caused the sort of general chaos that large crowds always do, and I was quite content to leave the herding to Hagrid, who, at nearly ten feet tall with a deep, booming voice, was much more fitted to the task.

Mary, Andrew, A.J. and I found a carriage and settled in for the short ride to the castle.

"You know, even though it's been six years, I can still clearly remember our boat ride to Hogwarts first year," Mary said as our carriage lurched to a start.

"Probably because it was freezing and pouring rain," I said, wrinkling my nose at the unpleasant memory.

"Yes, that might have had something to do with it," Mary said thoughtfully.

"Didn't James fall in?" Andrew asked.

"Only because he and Sirius were _wrestling_, of all things, in the back of their boat," I said, rolling my eyes. "Come to think of it, they both fell in, actually."

"Served them right, eh?" A.J. inquired, raising his eyebrows at me.

I smiled sweetly at him. "Exactly—it's great that you know me so well."

We said goodbye to Andrew in the Great Hall and found three seats together at Gryffindor table. Shortly thereafter, we were joined by James, with Sirius, Remus and Peter finishing off our group a few minutes later. All four of the Marauders were grinning in a way that I'd come to associate with disaster and mayhem, and I frowned at them suspiciously.

"All right, what have you lot done?" I demanded, crossing my arms.

"Whatever do you mean, Flower?" James asked, fixing me with a carefully innocent look.

"What did I say about calling me that, Potter?"

"Now, there's no need to get so touchy, Evans," he replied with a smirk.

Sighing, I turned my accusatory gaze on Sirius instead.

"What?" he asked defensively.

Having not really expected either of them to tell me anything, I glanced at my former fellow prefect. "Remus?"

"The Sorting's starting," was all he said, nodding towards the doors into the Entrance Hall, where a knot of nervous-looking first years were gathered.

"Excellent," Sirius said quietly.

Sighing again, I resigned myself to watching Professor McGonagall begin to lead the first years into the Great Hall. Except that none of them were following. And McGonagall wasn't carry the Sorting Hat and three-legged stool that usually accompanied this most honored of Hogwarts' ceremonies. No, she was instead wearing a most formidable expression and clutching . . . a Santa hat. Yep, bright red with the furry white trim and everything.

A.J. snorted beside me, and he was hardly the only one. Laughter rang out across the Hall as everyone turned towards McGonagall, who continued to stride up to the teacher's table, where she whipped around to address the gathered student body, who, despite their amusement, fell immediately silent at the look on McGonagall's face.

"I don't know which person or persons did this," she began, and I was impressed at the way her lips remained in that sternly thin, angry line even as she spoke, "but they are likely to find themselves in detention for a month if this is not sorted out immediately."

"No pun intended," James muttered behind me, and I shot him an exasperated smile. He and his fellow Marauders were all watching McGonagall with mock looks of concern or polite incredulity, and the smile I'd directed at James remained on my lips as I turned to the front again.

"The Sorting ceremony is a tradition that can be traced back to the founding of the school itself," McGonagall was saying, clearly trying to impress upon us the full gravity of the situation. And, indeed, I was wondering how they would continue without the Hat to Sort the new students. Apparently, McGonagall had questioned this as well, because she continued, "I am afraid I we shall be forced to discontinue the feast until we have remedied the situation."

Several students let out disappointed groans, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw Sirius slouch down slightly on the bench, remove his hat—we all wore our pointed black hats to the Welcome Feast—and replace it with one that looked oddly familiar . . . Spinning in my seat to face him fully, my jaw dropped as I realized that it was indeed the frayed and weathered Sorting Hat perched on his head.

"Sirius," I hissed in disbelief, but he put a finger to his lips and winked at me. I frowned at him. "I'm not just going to—" I started, but one of the younger Ravenclaws suddenly shouted "It's there!" and pointed to where Sirius sat, clearly fighting a grin.

Every head in the Hall swiveled to look at him, and now James, Remus, and Peter were shaking with suppressed laughter too.

McGonagall marched down the length of Gryffindor table, stopping directly in front of Sirius and holding out her hand silently.

Unfazed by the thunderous look in her eyes—impressive, because even I shrank back from her a bit—Sirius pulled the Hat off and handed it over to his Head of House. "Mr. Black," she said in a dangerously quiet voice that nonetheless carried the length of the table, "I do not know what on earth could possibly have possessed you to pull such a stunt, but I will be seeing you in my office for detention every night for the first two weeks of term."

"I thought you said a month, Professor?" Sirius questioned pleasantly.

I heard James let out a snort of laughter beside me.

McGonagall's eyes flicked to the Head Boy and then back to Sirius. Instead of answering his question—lucky, I thought, because she could have easily doubled his detentions just for cheek—she asked, "And am I to assume you were the sole perpetrator in all this, Mr. Black?"

"Yes, Ma'am," Sirius replied without hesitation.

Looking as though she severely doubted this, McGonagall said, "Very well. And the stool?" Sirius pulled it out from under the table. Taking it, McGonagall turned to me. "Miss Evans, if I could see you briefly after the feast?"

"Of—of course, Professor," I said, surprised.

But I had time only to exchange a questioning look with Mary before the Sorting started in earnest. After Melinda Wilkinson had joined the Hufflepuff table, Dumbledore stood, offered a few words of welcome, and the feast began.

Immediately, I turned to the Marauders. "How did you do that?" I asked, genuinely curious and, though I'd only admit it under heavy questioning, a little impressed. "And where the hell did you get a Santa hat?"

James raised his eyebrows. "First, _we _didn't do anything," he said, indicating himself, Remus and Peter.

"Right, of course," I said sardonically. "Fine, then, Sirius—how did _you _do it?"

"A Marauder never kisses and tells, love," he said enigmatically, smirking slyly at James as though they were sharing a private joke. Which, knowing them, they probably were.

"Because that has everything to do with . . . nothing," I said.

"I imagine I might be able to shed some light on the situation, Evans," Potter said helpfully.

"Do you?" I replied, arching an inquisitive eyebrow. "Why do I not find that hard to believe?"

James grinned. "Well, I'd say that if someone were to carry out such an elaborate and brilliant prank, they would probably have been waiting at the train doors, ready to jump out immediately upon arrival at Hogsmeade station," he began.

"Would they? And why would that be?"

"Because they'd have to sprint to the front of the carriages to get the first one," James explained. "Then, after coming up to the castle, they'd probably want to locate Peeves—"

"How?" A.J. interjected.

"How indeed?" James replied with an infuriatingly superior grin. But I had a sneaking suspicion that ghosts might just happen to be traceable on the Marauder's Map. "Anyway, as I said, one would probably want to find Peeves so he could create a small yet effective diversion to distract McGonagall, thus allowing one unimpeded entrance into the room where they keep the Sorting Hat on the evening of the Welcome Feast." Potter paused, no doubt for dramatic effect.

"And then what?" Mary asked, playing along, as I shot her a look that clearly said 'don't encourage him.'

"Well, after that it's quite simple, really. After swapping out the hat, stealing the stool, and hiding both of them under the table, one would merely have to double back using the door behind the teacher's table that opens directly onto the grounds, and enter the castle again with everyone else."

After a moment of silence, I asked, "But why let Sirius take the fall for all of you?"

"Evans, have you not listened to a thing I've said?" Potter asked indignantly. "None of us had anything to—"

But Remus cut him off. "With Prongs as Head Boy"—he smirked at his friend, who glared back resentfully—"and the fact that McGonagall would never have believed Peter or I acted alone on this . . ." he trailed off with a shrug.

"And you agreed to that?" A.J. asked Sirius incredulously.

Once again, it was Remus who answered. "Padfoot sees detention as a matter of personal pride," he said dryly.

We fell quiet again, each enjoying the fantastic food and pondering the Marauder's latest prank. "It does makes you wonder what they'd do if the Sorting Hat ever really _did _go missing, though," Mary mused after a while.

"Indeed it does, Macdonald," Sirius agreed solemnly.

**OOOOOOOO**

After the Feast, as instructed, I met McGonagall in her office. I couldn't fathom anything I could possibly have done wrong so early in the year, so I wasn't anxious, but I had a sneaking suspicion what this was about nonetheless.

"Please, have a seat Miss Evans," McGonagall offered after she'd shut the door behind us, indicating a rather hard, straight-backed chair in front of her desk.

Taking it, I waited expectantly as my Head of House sat as well.

"First, may I offer my congratulations on making Head Girl—it is well-deserved," she began.

"Thank you, Professor," I said, a little taken aback at this rare compliment.

"On that note, however"—and here her lips thinned slightly—"I'd like to discuss Mr. Potter's appointment with you. Now, while I normally trust and respect Dumbledore's judgment . . ." She stopped, as if reluctant to speak ill of the Headmaster, even if he had made what she clearly thought was a grave mistake.

To my surprise, I found myself bristling at the implication that James was unworthy of being Head Boy. Honestly, I would have completely agreed with her before, but now . . . I mean, if Dumbledore thought he could do it, didn't he deserve a chance to prove that he could?

I opened my mouth to tell McGonagall this, but she spoke again before I could. "I think you and I both know that it is highly unlikely Mr. Black acted alone tonight. In light of that, I would like to assure you that if Mr. Potter gives you any trouble this year, or exhibits behavior that is . . . less than fitting for his position, you should not hesitate to report it to me. Understood?"

A thousand retorts sprang to my lips, but I forced them all back, knowing it wasn't worth it to start an argument with my professor. "Of course, Professor," I said obediently instead. A beat of silence, then, "Is that all you wanted to see me for?"

"Yes, you're free to go. I will see you first thing tomorrow."

It took me a moment to figure out what she meant, but then I realized Transfiguration must be our first lesson of the term. "Good night, Professor."

I stood and left her office, letting out a long, frustrated sigh the moment I'd turned the corner.

**OOOOOOOO**

"I mean, I'm not your mother, and you're not a child, so I really don't see what the problem is. Dumbledore thinks you can do it, _I _think you can do it, and that should be all that matters, right?" I'd just finished relaying McGonagall's speech to James and Remus, the only two of my friends still in the common room by the time I returned to Gryffindor tower. Both were currently staring at me, mingled looks of disbelief and amusement on their faces. "What?" I asked defensively.

"D'you think I could get that last bit in writing?" James inquired. "And maybe you could sign it—preferably in blood, you know, for good measure. I just have a feeling that I—"

I cut him off by hitting him with a pillow. "I just think it was unfair of her, that's all."

"You may end up regretting those words, Lily," Remus said, though he was smiling slightly all the same.

"Aw Moony, what makes you say that?" James asked.

"Only the memories—and there are many of them—of discouraging yours and Sirius's more, er, ill-advised pranks."

"But those days are behind me now," James assured him seriously.

Remus merely raised a skeptical eyebrow.

James sighed dramatically. "The universe has clearly been thrown off kilter when Lily supports me more than my best mates."

"Agreed," I muttered.

**OOOOOOOO**

My Head Girl dormitory, as it turned out, was nothing to write home about—just a single bed similar to that in the other dormitories, a desk and chair in one corner, and a bathroom opening off of the far wall. This last amenity would, admittedly, be nice after so many years sharing one with three other girls. I fell into bed, expecting to get a good night's sleep without the distracting noises of my sleeping roommates. However, after years of blocking out Marlene's snoring, my single room turned out to be oppressively quiet, and I abandoned all thoughts of a restful night at approximately one in the morning, when sleep had yet to claim me.

I woke reluctantly the next morning, grumbling a few chosen words at my cursed alarm clock, which had roused me much too early for my liking. Meeting Mary in the common room, we started down for breakfast. "You look tired," she observed. "Didn't sleep well?"

"No, I guess I just got used to sleeping with three other girls, so—"

"Kinky, Evans," an amused voice said from behind us.

"And a good morning to you, too, Potter," I said, frowning at him.

"Well, I'm sorry you slept badly," Mary continued, ignoring the brief interruption. "If it helps, I think I'm going to miss sleeping with you." She glanced at James as she said this, quirking an eyebrow slightly as if daring him to make another lewd comment.

Which he did, of course. "Yeah, me too," he sighed, slinging an arm around my shoulders.

I shoved it away and glared at him. "I was serious about the flirting thing, Potter," I said warningly.

"Oh, I never joke about flirting, Flower," he said solemnly.

My eyes narrowed further at the nickname. "No, I _meant_ about how I didn't want you to do it."

"You never said that," he countered.

"Well, I'm saying it now."

"Fine, fine, have it your way, then," James relented.

Mary cleared her throat subtly, and when I glanced at her, she widened her eyes slightly at me. "What?" I asked, but my best friend just shrugged.

After walking a bit further in silence, James spoke again. "I don't think I ever thanked you properly, Lily, for defending me to McGonagall."

"What?" Mary said before I could respond.

"Good old McG, er, heavily implied last night that I would be a rubbish Head Boy, but Lily told her just where she could shove it."

"I did no such thing," I protested.

"Well, okay, not in those exact words, but—"

"No, I mean all that stuff I said—you know, how she was being unfair, and how you should at least be given a chance—I never actually said any of that to her."

"Oh," James said in surprise. "Well then," he added in a slightly indignant tone, "maybe I don't want to sleep with you after all." He said this last bit just as we reached Gryffindor table, where Remus was eating alone and reading the morning's _Prophet_.

He looked up at James's words, however. "Do I even want to know?" he asked warily as we sat down across from him.

"No," I said quickly, glaring at James again.

Before he could do anything more than smirk back at me, Remus said, "You lot seen the _Prophet _yet?"

When we shook our heads, he turned the paper around, pointing to a headline on the bottom half of the front page: _"Raiders Strike Again: Second Attack This Week."_

Mary and James looked suddenly grim upon reading this, but I failed to see the significance—apart from the attack thing, of course. Glancing in confusion between my three friends I asked, "Er, what are Raiders?"

James raised his eyebrows. "Where were you all summer, Evans?"

"At home. With my _Muggle _parents," I said, raising my eyebrows in turn.

"Oh, right," James said, somewhat sheepishly.

"Well, no one's really clear on who exactly the Raiders are," Remus said, "though rumor has it they're some sort of Voldemort-sympathetic group who aren't quite, er, zealous enough to be Death Eaters. Over the summer, there were several attacks reported, all perpetrated by small groups of similar description: most victims estimated them to be in their late teens or early twenties, but they were always masked, so no one has been identified yet. It's easy to see where they got the inspiration for the masks, and, equally unsurprising, the attacks have all been on Muggles or wizards who live in Muggle neighborhoods, who are just assumed to be against Voldemort's pureblood mania line—"

"That's who you think they were," I interrupted, turning to James abruptly. "With you and Sirius—because you were in a Muggle neighborhood, so they probably just assumed—"

James shrugged. "Maybe. I don't know. Whether it was or not, though, is hardly the point. I mean, these attacks . . . all of them have been fairly random, and now that they're happening more frequently . . . these 'Raiders' evidently don't much care who they harm."

Silence followed this bleak declaration, until Mary said, "Sorry, but I'm a little lost. What happened to you and Sirius?"

"We almost died," James said casually, with the hint of his old smirk back in place.

I rolled my eyes. "Not exactly something to joke about, Potter," I said, my voice coming out harsher than I'd expected.

"Why, would you miss me?" he teased.

"Possibly," I allowed.

James grinned. "Well, you know I always joke about inappropriate things, so it should come as no surprise to you that my own death would be among them."

"I suppose it shouldn't," I muttered.

**OOOOOOOO**

"Have you lot seen Potter?" I asked of the other Marauders that evening. It was eight o'clock, time for us to do rounds, and I could not find my fellow Head Boy anywhere.

"Nope," Sirius said unconcernedly, barely glancing up from his chess game with Peter.

I turned to Remus, who just grinned and asked, "Too early to say 'I told you so'?"  
"Yes," I said, glowering at him. "I cannot believe that you all won't at least _pretend _to support him in this."

Sirius did look up at that. "My dear, you are evidently woefully misinformed."

"About what?"

"Life," Sirius replied, to which I rolled my eyes. "You see, Prongs is a Marauder, and now he has gone and landed himself a respectable position in the school's authority system, a system which we have striven to undermine for centuries . . . well, six years, anyway . . . and therefore has left us with no choice but to mock him for the rest of his life."

"Checkmate," Peter piped up triumphantly.

Sirius dropped his gaze to the board in disbelief. "Damn," he said softly, on finding Peter's claim confirmed. "Now see what you've gone and done, Evans?" he accused, though only half-seriously.

I sighed. "You're no help," I grumbled, moving towards the portrait hole.

"Hang on, Lily," Sirius called after me. I looked back questioningly. "I think I remember Prongs saying something about . . . no, wait, I wasn't really paying attention—never mind!" He grinned pleasantly at me.

Scowling once more, I pushed the Fat Lady's portrait open with a bit more vigor than I'd intended, earning an indignant reprimand from our common room's guardian, which I ignored. As I started off in the direction of the Astronomy Tower, I couldn't decide if I was angry with Potter, or if I'd almost been expecting something like this. I mean, maybe he'd just forgotten, what with it being the first night of term and all. Besides, he hadn't actually read the informational letter we'd received over the summer.

I found myself smiling wryly at this as I reached the far end of the castle and began to climb the stairs of its tallest tower. It was just so typical of him that I almost couldn't be mad. Which didn't really make sense, but—

My thoughts were promptly interrupted by the sight that met my eyes when I finally emerged into the cool September air at the tower's summit. James was standing half-concealed in the darkness of the tower's shadow, arms around a girl and lips engaged in a manner reminiscent of Chloe.

Momentarily shocked, I simply stared at the couple for several seconds, my stomach turning over with . . . anger? I mean, of course it was anger. Potter was supposed to be doing rounds with me, and instead he was off snogging . . . well, I couldn't really tell who it was, but that was hardly the point. But as I considered marching up and giving him a good telling off, I found my feet frozen to the flagstones. Much as it embarrassed me to admit, I felt incredibly uncomfortable . . . er, interrupting them.

I turned and started quietly down the steps again, but stopped almost immediately. _Don't be such a coward, Lily_, I reprimanded myself. Taking a determined breath, I spun abruptly, knocking my elbow against the stone wall of the tower as I did so. Swearing involuntarily at the pain, I froze when Potter looked around at the noise, his eyes quickly finding mine. I felt myself blush up to the roots of my hair, and was grateful for the darkness. "Hi," I blurted out, trying not to cringe as the girl Potter had been snogging raised her perfectly plucked brows at me.

"Hi," James echoed, and I could tell from his barely controlled smirk that he was mocking me.

That was enough to fuel my anger and unlock my limbs. Crossing my arms impatiently, I asked in what I hoped was a convincingly stern tone, "Having fun, are you? Because you're suppo—"

It was Potter's turn to swear. "Shit, Evans, I forgot." Turning to the girl, he said, "Sorry, er . . . raincheck?" This with a charmingly crooked grin.

She sent him a sultry smile in return. "Just name the time and place, and I'll be there."

I sighed pointedly. Ignoring me, the girl gave James an unnecessarily long kiss in parting and brushed past me down the stairs.

"Lovely," I muttered sarcastically after her, before fixing James with an irritated glare.

He winced. "Sorry. It won't happen again, I promise." After a pause, he added, "You going to report me to McGonagall?" The left side of his mouth twitched slightly.

"No," I said evenly, starting down the Astronomy Tower stairs myself.

James trotted to catch up. "Look, it really did slip my mind. I wasn't—"

"So I'm curious," I said, overriding him, "is it a general practice of yours to have a complete personality makeover every year?"

"You really are mad, huh?" he said, ignoring the question and sounding almost more amused than ashamed.

Which only served to incense me further. "And this shocks you? Let's see, Potter, why would I be mad at you? Maybe it has something to do with the fact that I defended you to Mary, your mates, _and _McGonagall—"

"No you didn't; you said yourself that—"

"And yet," I said, talking over him once more, "here you are, snogging some random girl, while I—"

"Wait a minute, you're judging me too, aren't you?"

"Oh yes, I most certainly am. Do you even know her name?" I accused.

"Audrey Caplan," he answered promptly, and I was impressed in spite of myself that he supplied her surname as well.

"And what year is she?"

"Sixth."

"House?"

"Ravenclaw. And," he added, as I opened my mouth again, "she has two younger brothers—one's a fifth year in Ravenclaw as well, and the other's a second year Hufflepuff. Her parents both work at St. Mungo's, and her favorite Quidditch team is the Holyhead Harpies—bit unfortunate, and a little too cliché for my taste, but better than the Tornadoes." He shuddered at the thought.

I smiled reluctantly. "Fine. But I'm still judging you."

"That's your prerogative, I suppose," Potter said fairly.

"So, point of interest—do you actually plan on cashing in that 'raincheck' you offered?"

He considered this for a moment. "Maybe. She was a descent kisser."

I rolled my eyes. "Okay, new topic. Did you know Sirius has—"

"Sworn to mock me for the rest of my life, on account of my failing to undermine the school's authority system as we've been doing for centuries? Yes," he said wearily. "I'm pretty sure he spent the entire day after finding out I'd been made Head Boy writing and memorizing that speech so he could quote it at me whenever I was forced to do something responsible."

"So that's what you were doing just now? Trying to keep in Sirius's good books by shirking your duties?"

"Sorry—'shirking my duties'?" James asked with a snort.

"Don't tease me, and stop evading the question."

"No—I honestly did just forget. Unless you're less likely to stay mad at me if I _were _trying to please Sirius, because then—"

"No, they're pretty much equally disappointing."

"Well, can you find it in your heart to forgive me anyway, Flower?" he asked gravely.

"Only if you _stop calling me that_."

"Does it really bother you? Because all you have to do is say so, and I'll stop."

"No you won't. I've asked you to quit it at least three times in the past two days, and that hasn't seemed to discourage you in the slightest."

He grinned. "Yeah, you're probably right about that. But if it were a matter of love or hate, friend or enemies, I'd consider it." I looked at him sharply, the word 'love' standing out among the rest, but his face betrayed no hint that he'd said anything odd. Deciding that it must have slipped out with no intention of implying anything serious—after all, why should it?—I let it go.

Frowning at me, James added, "You aren't really mad, are you?"

"No," I said tiredly. "I should be, but . . . I'm not."

"Must be my charm and good looks, eh?"

"Doubtful."

"Well, whatever it is, I'm glad. I'm not sure how I could go on, otherwise."

"You could always get _Audrey_ to comfort you."

"Careful, Flower—that rings awfully of bitterness."

**

* * *

A/N: I love writing L/J banter—it's quite fun. And before anyone freaks out, Audrey isn't going to turn into another Chloe situation, despite Lily's drawn parallel between the two….it's just James being an idiot, as usual ;)**


	28. This Kind Of Love

**A/N: Thanks a million to last week's reviewers: I'm A Cuckoo, Meeeee (I always feel pressured to update from you—but in a good way, don't worry! And unfortunately, no 28 on the 28****th****—you're right, though, that would have been cool.), Bittersweet x, roseythebx, WhereIsMyThumpThump, AliLuvsAlli-Sirius, Insane Potter Maniac (somewhere around 33 chapters—A.J. will be gone soon-ish, just hold on! haha), Samantha (I work as a research assistant), Elless, Silver Scorpion, Abi, maximum destined potter, movinggirl, jak23, TimeTravelJunkie, Evisawesome, Miss larien, A La DarkAngel (haha, welcome back!), Cassie Weasley, marinewife08, Graci-and-Cheri, Zone Systems, ottoismydog, viva gal, IIManzaII, Vanillaberries, Nour, WobblyJelly, Marauder'sGirlCuzI'mUp2NoGood, lollipopdiego, Nathymoonybr, Molly Raesly, theycallherkaush, xLycheeRAiN, SeriouslySiriusBlack, arelli-black, PoseidonsLittleGirl, Dancethroughlife, EchoNightFall22, and emotionsonhold!**

**Don't forget to wish Lily a happy birthday, haha!**

**

* * *

Chapter 27:** **This Kind Of Love**

"So, does he?" I prompted, looking down at my best friend, who was currently digging in her bookbag. Mary and I had come up to the dormitory—well, her dormitory, I suppose it was now—during break, and I'd just relayed everything that had happened in the past two days with Potter that seemed out of the ordinary.

"Who?" she asked distractedly.

I crossed my arms. "Have you even been listening to me, Mary?"

She looked up with a sigh. "Yes, sorry—I'm trying to find my potions book, though, and _you're _supposed to be helping, I might remind you."

"Right, sorry," I said, sliding off her bed and peering under it. Getting a faceful of dust for my efforts, I sneezed as I pulled my head out again. "But back to James—do you think he's acting weird?"

"I'm getting a strange sense of déjà vu . . ."

"Well, that's probably because we had nearly this exact conversation last year. Several times, in fact."

"And?"

"What do you mean 'and'? You're the one who brought up the déjà vu thing—you tell me its significance."

Mary sat back on her heels from where she'd been digging in her trunk for her errant book. "I don't know, Lily."

"Yes you do," I insisted. "Or at least, you've noticed something. Don't think I've forgotten that _look _you sent me the other day on our way to breakfast."

"You mean when James joked about sleeping with you?" Mary inquired dryly. "And you _didn't _find that strange?"

"Well, that's what I'm saying!" I insisted, getting a bit frustrated. "I mean, it's almost as if he's travelled back in time to fifth year. Or fourth year, for that matter."

"I don't know," Mary repeated. "But he did kiss you."

I glared at her. "I thought we were going to pretend that never happened. And anyway, you were the one who said it was no big deal, that those kinds of things happened 'all the time' at parties—"

"First of all, I never condoned pretending it never happened. And I only said that other stuff to calm you down, because I was afraid you were going to have heart failure otherwise."

"Great," I muttered, sinking onto her bed and abandoning the potion book search once more. "So you think he—I mean, he might have, you know, actually meant to kiss me."

Mary shrugged. "Hard to say, as he doesn't remember it. But if the flirting really bothers you, just talk to him about it."

"No, it doesn't bother me," I said, discovering as I did so that it was true.

Mary stopped looking for her book as well to frown up at me. "So . . ." she started slowly, "you're saying you . . . like it?"  
"No!" I said quickly, frowning back at her. "I'm just saying I don't mind it . . . except I'm wondering what it means." When Mary just looked at me, I sighed. "It comes back to the kiss again, doesn't it?"

"I'm not—ha! There it is!" Mary jumped up and strode across the room, snatching her potions book off the window seat by Dorcas's bed. "I forgot I lent it to her yesterday. But Lily," she added more seriously, "just be careful."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Just . . . you know, if James really does—"

"You're afraid I'll 'lead him on' or something stupid like that?" I interrupted, offended that she'd think me so heartless.

"You're dating A.J." she said simply, putting her recently recovered book in her bag and zipping it up.

"Right, thanks for reminding me," I replied sarcastically. "I—wait. You're not afraid for Potter's sake, are you? You're worried that I might . . . what? Fall in love with him? Honestly, Mary," I continued as we started for the dormitory door, "how many times do we have to have this conversation? I don't, nor will I ever, fancy Potter. I love A.J., so—" We both stopped just short of the door, staring at each other.

"You do?" Mary asked finally.

"Er . . . I don't know. I mean, I guess so—I must, right? Because I just said it without thinking, so if that's my unconscious reaction, it must mean that—"

"Lily," Mary interrupted, an amused smile on her lips.

"I'm rambling, I know. Sorry. But . . . this is . . . big, right?" We moved forward again, Mary pushing open the door to the stairs. "Though, I guess it's possible I'm _not _in love with him, isn't it? I mean, I should be sure before—"

"Lily," Mary cut in again, more insistently. "There isn't some sort of—of test you can take to prove it. At some point you just have to . . . jump in, with these kinds of things."

"Have you said it?" I asked abruptly. "To Andrew, I mean?"

"No."

"But you've been dating over a year. And A.J. and I have barely been dating six months." _Six months next Monday_, I thought, somewhat surprised that I remembered this. "So if you two haven't even said it . . ."

"I don't think the length of the relationship really matters, Lil. But," and here, Mary bit her lip, "about Andrew—I've been trying to find a good time to tell you, but . . . we broke up. Over the summer."

I stopped walking again, my foot hovering over the last step into the common room. "What? You—why didn't you tell me?" I tried to remember if things had seemed strained or weird between them on the train, but nothing stood out.

"Well, it happened the last two weeks before term, so I figured it was sort of pointless to write, and then I guess we've always been with other people, since you don't room with me anymore, and . . ." she trailed off, shrugging.

"But—are you okay? Do you need to, you know, cry or something?"

Mary laughed. "No, I'm fine. Really," she assured me, when I sent her a doubtful look. "Andrew and I haven't really been more than close friends for a while, and we both knew it, so . . . we decided to break up." She sounded so practical about it that I continued to frown at her.

"Well, there you go—my whole concept of love, just shattered—"

Mary shoved me lightly. "Andrew and I weren't your quintessential example of love," she scoffed. More worriedly, "Were we?"

"Well, okay, no—but what if you had been?"  
"You should tell A.J." Mary said.

"That you and Andrew broke up?" I asked uncertainly.

Mary glared at me. "_No_—you know that's not what I meant."

I wrinkled my nose. "But—"

"Lily," she said warningly.

I sighed. "Fine. I will."

**OOOOOOOO**

But I didn't. It just wasn't something that came up in every day conversation. And ever since I'd asked him not to repeat it after he'd told me he loved me, A.J. had respected my request. So now there was the additional possibility that he didn't love me anymore, or regretted saying it without knowing how I felt. Not that _I _was sure how I felt, either.

And then there was the added problem of James and his . . . flirtatiousness. Which, by the way, hadn't stopped; though (as promised) he didn't do it around A.J. I couldn't decide if it was in earnest or just James being . . . well, James. Either way, I certainly didn't have the courage to directly ask him about it. So, after a week of confusion and indecision regarding the men in my life, I came up with a solution (of sorts): I would ask James for advice about A.J. One, to see his reaction when I told him I loved A.J., and two, to get input about love from someone who wasn't Mary. Not that James Potter was necessarily the optimal alternative, but . . . well, all right, I would probably end up regretting the entire thing.

Before I could second-guess myself, I blurted it out just after we began rounds on the second Thursday of term. "I think I love A.J."

James stopped walking, staring at me in surprise. Something odd twisted his expression for a moment, but it was gone before I could work out what it was, or if it had even been there at all. "Er, good for you," he said finally. "And him, I suppose."

"Right, well, that's the thing," I said as we started walking again, my cheeks flushing despite my best efforts to control my easy blush. "I haven't actually told him yet."

"Because . . ."

"Because what if I'm not? In love with him, that is. I mean, I said it when I was talking to Mary, without really thinking about it, so that probably means it's true, but even so, I don't want to just go blathering around with it in case I—"

"Evans, shut up," James said, though not unkindly—I glared at him nevertheless. "I don't know why in Merlin's name you're telling me all this, but—"

"Because I want your advice."

That seemed to halt whatever sentence I'd interrupted, and James once again stopped walking. "You do." I nodded. "You. Want my advice. About relationships," he repeated, still sounding disbelieving.

"Well, why not?"

He let out a snort of laughter. "I can think of several reasons. One, I'm a bloke, and two . . . well, no that pretty much covers it."

I sighed impatiently. "And of course you're not into talking about 'feelings' and things, is that right?" James nodded. "Well, we're not talking about _your _feelings, so—"

"Doesn't matter," he said, now sounding slightly frustrated, though I couldn't imagine why.

"We've talked about my feelings before," I pointed out.

James quirked an eyebrow at me. "Not really. Unless you count all the negative ones you've had towards me over the years." Now he was smirking slightly.

"Either way, that's not the point, because all I really wanted to ask you was whether you think I should tell him."

"Tell A.J. you love him?" I nodded. James shrugged. "I don't care."

I sighed. "I know _you _don't—never mind. I'll just stick with Mary for these kinds of things from now on."

"Yes, please do."

James still sounded irritated, and (as predicted) I regretted bringing up the subject at all. After a beat of silence, I asked tentatively, "So, how're things with . . . er, Audrey, was it?"

James frowned at me for a moment in confusion. "Oh, right—er, no 'things' to speak of, really."

I raised my eyebrows. "Moved on already, have you?"

"Still judging me, I see?"

"Oh, most definitely." James laughed. "Of course that wouldn't bother you," I muttered resentfully, though I was relieved he seemed to be back to normal.

"Well, it does bother me, Flower, but I'm very good at hiding my pain."

"Sure you are." James glanced sideways at me, and I suddenly got the feeling I was missing something. "What?"

"Nothing," he said, with a quirk to his lips that suggested he was sharing an inside joke with himself.

"So, is this some sort of seventh year resolution—to snog all the girls at Hogwarts?"

"Don't be absurd, Evans, of course not. Just the good-looking ones."

I rolled my eyes. "Right. Have you made a list, then, and are going through it alphabetically? You know, since Audrey was first . . ."

He flashed me a wicked grin. "Why, wondering when I'll get to you?"

I looked at him, finding myself on the brink of telling him that, in fact, he'd already gotten to me.

James must have seen something in my expression, because he flushed faintly and said, "You know I'm just joking, right?"

"Yes," I said, realizing I'd been staring and quickly looking away. "I was just thinking about something else, that's all."

"I'm talking about kissing you and you're thinking about something else?" James asked, pretending to be offended.

"Sorry, I'll try and give you my full attention the next time it comes up," I said dryly.

"Good."

I was suddenly aware that my skin felt all tingly, though Merlin only knew why. I clenched and unclenched my fists to try and rid myself of the sensation, but was only sufficiently distracted when James said seriously, "About A.J. . . . I mean, I'll be the first to admit I'm no expert—yes, I know, shocking and all that—" he said, forestalling the comment I'd been about to make, "but I think a bloke deserves to know if his girlfriend's in love with him."

"Well, it just sounds ridiculous to consider not telling him when you put it like that."

**OOOOOOOO**

And so I resumed looking for an appropriate opening with A.J. in earnest. Luckily, I was presented with the perfect opportunity shortly after my conversation with James.

On the morning of A.J.'s and my sixth anniversary, I woke up expecting it to be like any other day. Hardly the overly-romantic type, I hadn't really thought we'd do anything to commemorate the day, and was sure my boyfriend had similar thoughts. But oh, was I wrong.

Pushing aside my bed curtains, I let out a little gasp as I spotted the half-dozen roses arranged on my bedside table and the trail of rose petals leading from the foot of my bed, across my room, and disappearing under the door to the hall. I dressed quickly, already feeling guilty that I hadn't even thought to get or do anything for A.J. Grabbing my school bag, I walked over to the trail of petals, toeing one experimentally. It didn't move, which I'd sort of expected. Because if A.J. had done what I was starting to suspect he had, he would have had to ensure the petals wouldn't shift as other students walked over them.

Opening my bedroom door, I blinked in surprise to find Mary, Marlene and Dorcas just outside it.

All three blushed slightly, and Marlene said somewhat shamefacedly, "Er, hi Lily—we just saw the rose petals on our way downstairs, and wondered where they were coming from, so we traced them back up to here, and . . . so, did A.J. do all this?"

"Yes—well, at least I think so."

Dorcas and Marlene exchanged gleeful looks. "That's so sweet!" they gushed.

Mary raised her eyebrows at me, though she was smiling as well, and I had to look away from her so I wouldn't start laughing at my former roommates' wistful expressions.

"Well, um, can I . . ." I gestured towards the stairs, and Marlene and Dorcas jumped aside.

"Right, sorry—hang on, can we come with you? We're almost ready; it'll just be a couple minutes."

"Er," I started hesitantly.

"Please?" Dorcas wheedled. "We really want to see all of it!"

Carefully avoiding Mary's eye, as I felt laughter bubbling inside me again, I said, "Sure, we'll wait."

"Thanks, Lily!" Dorcas and Marlene said in unison, hurrying back downstairs in the direction of my old dormitory.

"Honestly," I muttered after the pair of them, finally turning to Mary. "I didn't really fancy having an escort; it's going to be embarrassing enough as it is."

Mary grinned at me. "You didn't do anything for him, did you?" She said it more as a statement, as though already expecting my answer.

"No," I sighed. "I didn't think he—I mean, _six months?_ That's not really—did you think he would do something?"

Mary shrugged. "I wouldn't worry about it, though; I hardly think he'll expect something from you," she said sweetly.

"Wow, thanks," I replied sarcastically.

Marlene and Dorcas returned shortly, as promised, and I suspected it was only their excitement at seeing what A.J. had planned that'd motivated them to get ready for the day in such record time. We all started down the stairs to the common room, to find that the rose petals continued across the room and out into the corridor beyond.

"Did he use a permanent sticking charm on these?" Mary wondered, nudging one with her foot as we crossed towards the portrait hole.

"Must've done," I said.

"Merlin, that must have taken a long time," Marlene marveled.

Guilt twisted my stomach again, and only increased as we followed the petals out of the common room, down the seven flights of stairs into the Entrance Hall, and along the Great Hall to Gryffindor table, ending partway down the bench where I usually sat. I was a little surprised not to find A.J. there; instead, another rose lay across one of the golden plates at the table, across from which sat Sirius and Peter. Both grinned at me as I sat down, and I felt myself redden.

"Good, you're here—now we can stop guarding this thing," Sirius commented.

"Oh my God, this is seriously the cutest thing I've ever seen!" Dorcas exclaimed as she sat down beside me.

Sirius raised his eyebrows in an expression similar to the one Mary had worn earlier. "Bloody adorable," he agreed dryly, smirking at me.

"Oh, shut it, Black," I muttered at him.

"And where is the man of the hour?" Sirius inquired.

"Hell if I know," I replied, annoyed by his teasing.

James's best mate grinned. "That's the romantic spirit."

Just then, James himself sat down next to Peter. Remus was, at the moment, indisposed (it had been a full moon the night before). "Merlin, Evans, was all that mess for you?" he inquired, sounding irritated.

I frowned at him. "Yes. Sorry if it interfered with your normal morning activities," I added, my tone somewhat biting in response to his unexpected disapproval.

James just made a noncommittal grunt and poured himself some pumpkin juice.

**OOOOOOOO**

As we left the Great Hall for potions—with no sign of A.J.—James said abruptly, "Seems a bit excessive for six months, don't you think?"

"Couldn't agree with you more, Prongs," Sirius chimed in cheerfully before I could respond.

Both James and I glared at him, though I couldn't see why James was angry with Sirius, since he seemed to be on his side. Then again, I wasn't quite sure why he was angry with me, either.

"I think it's sweet," I defended.

James snorted. "No, you don't. You're just saying that because you don't want to admit I'm right."

"What? No, I'm not! Just because _you _would never think to do something thoughtful and romantic like that doesn't mean it's _excessive_."

"Whatever you say, Evans," James said, sounding infuriatingly superior.

I sighed in frustration. "And anyway, why does it matter? Moreover, why do you even care?"

It seemed James couldn't think of a reply to that, because he just shoved his hands into his pockets and scowled at the floor until we reached our potions classroom. I sat with Mary at a table near the front, leaving the Marauders to take their usual tables at the back right corner of the room.

"Honestly, what is his problem?" I asked Mary, mostly rhetorically, as we pulled out our potions supplies.

Rhetoric or not, she didn't have a chance to reply anyway, as Professor Slughorn entered at that moment to begin the lesson. When he announced that he'd be pairing us off, I had a moment of dread until I heard my name paired with Sirius's. Breathing a sigh of relief that I wouldn't have to work with Potter, I glanced back at Sirius, raising my eyebrows and jerking my head at the seat beside me that Mary had just vacated.

He quirked an eyebrow at me in turn. "Nice try, Evans," he called, "but the day I sit in the front is the day Peter becomes Queen of England." He frowned. "Actually, that might not be so unthinkable, considering Pete's practically a girl—" The Marauder in question hit his friend on the back of the head with his potion's book as he passed to join Ravenclaw Marcia Shaw at her table.

I grinned as I sat beside Sirius. "You should really watch what you say, Black—Peter's not as timid as you might assume."

"Oh, I would never be naïve enough to assume such a thing, Ev—Merlin, he really put a lot of effort into this, didn't he?"

I'd just set my cauldron on the table between us, only to discover another rose had been placed inside it.

"Six months," Sirius said quietly, almost to himself, but I got the sense he was mocking me anyway.

"Just because your longest relationship was six hours—"

"All right, all right—I'll stop. So, let's start stirring your potion, shall we?" he asked with a suggestive wink.

I rolled my eyes. "Only you could manage to make something like a potions assignment sound dirty."

"It's a gift."

"Marvelous," I deadpanned. We worked in silence for a while, until finally I couldn't help asking, "So, do you know why James is going around like he's got a broomstick up his arse?"

Sirius suddenly became intently focused on adjusting the flames under our cauldron. "Dunno, maybe he's just tired—I mean, we did have a late night last night." He glanced up, eyebrows raised significantly.

"I might not let anyone else overhear that. If you know what I mean," I said casually.

Sirius grinned. "Now who's got the dirty mind?"

"Anyway, if he's tired, it would follow that you and Peter are as well, and I don't hear either of you complaining about A.J.'s display of affection." As I dumped in my freshly sliced newt tails and began stirring the potion slowly counterclockwise, I glanced over to find Sirius looking at me intently. "What?"

He let out a sigh, sounding almost disappointed. "Nothing. Well, it's possible Prongs is short-tempered on account of the relentlessly approaching Quidditch trials."

"Quidditch trials," I repeated skeptically. "Aren't they usually in the middle of October?"

"Yep."

"That's nearly a month away."

Sirius shrugged. "Yes, but it's a time-honored tradition at Hogwarts that the Gryffindor Quidditch trials are the most attended by persons _not _in that House than all the other Houses combined."

"Why?"

"Because it's also a time-honored tradition that the Gryffindor team is the most talented and has the most attractive captain."

Though I knew he was joking, I pretended to mull this over for a bit before asking cheekily, "But why would that affect this year's trials?"

Sirius shot me an appreciative look. "Normally I would say you'd never have the courage to say that to Prongs's face, but knowing you as I do, that would be a pointless accusation."

"You'll just have to relay the message for me."

"Will do," he said easily.

Still, I wasn't convinced Quidditch constituted the bulk of James's problems—though I knew from personal experience how testy he could get about it. I studied Sirius carefully. "There's something you're not telling me," I accused.

He reached out to tweak my nose, earning a glare from me. "I could write a soliloquy of the things I'm not telling you, my sweet Lily," he said, "but I wouldn't worry your pretty head about those if I were you. Besides, I don't have the time or motivation to write something as preposterous as a soliloquy."

**OOOOOOOO**

As the day wore on, I received three more roses from A.J.—though not personally delivered by him, of course. One was given to me by a third year Gryffindor boy (who looked decidedly uncomfortable carrying a flower around) during morning break, another was sitting at the Gryffindor table at lunch—guarded by a giggly Marlene—and the last was handed to me by a confused and somewhat disapproving McGonagall as we entered the classroom for our afternoon lesson.

"So, with the six this morning, that makes eleven," I commented to Mary as we ascended the steps out of the Entrance Hall after dinner. The rose petals had vanished sometime after lunch, making our way back to Gryffindor tower clear once more. "Which means there's probably one more," I continued, thinking out loud, "just to make it an even dozen. Right?"

"Makes sense to me," my best friend said. "But, I think the more pressing question is—where has A.J. been all day?"

"Yes, I've been wondering that as well," I said with a frown. "I mean, the castle isn't exactly small, but . . . he's done a rather impressive job of keeping a low profile. Though I hope he shows up eventually; I'd at least like to _see _him on our anniversary."

"Which you forgot," Mary said slyly.

"I did not _forget _it. I didn't!" I protested, when Mary looked at me skeptically. "Just because I didn't trail a thousand rose petals out of his room doesn't mean I—" I stopped abruptly as we turned onto the seventh floor corridor to find Potter walking towards us. Sure he had heard our conversation, I braced myself for a cutting remark, fully prepared to glare at him, but . . .

"Hey Evans, Mary," he said, almost distractedly, as he passed us.

Startled, I glanced at Mary, who looked equally surprised, before calling after James, "Potter, we've got—"

"Rounds in an hour—yeah, I know," he said, walking backwards so he could face me. "I promised I wouldn't forget again, remember?"

And then he was gone around the corner.

Mary and I walked towards the portrait hole in silence. Finally, I said, "You know, I don't think I'll ever really understand him."

True to his word, James returned to the common room just before eight, and almost before the Fat Lady had swung shut behind us, he handed me a rose.

I stared at him for a moment before he explained with a wry smile, "I'm just the messenger, Evans, don't worry. And I'm supposed to tell you 'happy anniversary.'"

Unconsciously sniffing the flower, I asked, "So, is A.J. slowly dying from some debilitating disease, and that's why he hasn't done any of this in person?"

Smirking slightly, James said, "Unfortunately, no—I expect he figured this would be more _romantic _and _thoughtful_."

"Don't be such a cynic."

"Too late for that, I'm afraid."

I sighed. "Really? Are you sure there's no hope for you?"

"None."

"Shame."

"Isn't it?"

I looked down at the rose again, suddenly reminded of a sunny day many years ago, playing in the park with my sister . . . I must have been staring at it more intently than I'd realized, for James added presently, "Well, I could try to believe in love, if it really bothers you that much."

"What? No, that's not—" I looked at him suspiciously. "You're teasing me, aren't you?"

James grinned. "You were looking at that flower like you hoped it might grow a mouth and answer all your deepest philosophical questions."  
"I was just thinking . . . it's funny how we used to be able to do magic without wands, and now we're so reliant on them—seems a little backwards to me."

"I agree, but what does that have to do with anything?"

"I remember this one time, with my sister . . . I was holding a flower, making the petals open and close without touching them . . . well, anyway, she freaked out—you know, with her hatred of magic and all."

James still looked a bit confused. "Why do you remember that, of all things?"

I shrugged, though it wasn't because I didn't know the answer. However, James didn't question me further. "Sorry," he said abruptly after a while. "For being a prick this morning," he explained when I shot him a questioning look. "I guess I was just preoccupied."

"With Quidditch?" I asked, testing Sirius's theory.

James frowned. "What?"

"That's what Sirius thought, you know, with trials coming up and everything."

"Oh, well, I try not to think about those until I have to," he muttered, confirming what I'd thought earlier: that Sirius had lied to me. I refused to accept that he'd merely been wrong about what was bothering James—they were much too close of friends for that. Knowing that James was far less likely to answer me truthfully, however, I let it go.

We passed the rest of rounds sharing stories of accidental magic we'd done before getting our Hogwarts letters.

"What did your mum do?" I asked, laughing, as we turned down the seventh floor corridor at ten o'clock. James had just told me of a time he'd gotten angry at his mother for refusing to let him take his father's broom out by himself, and had turned all of her clothes bright pink

"Well," James started as we reached the Fat Lady, "it was fairly easy for her to change them back—and I could swear she nearly laughed when she saw it . . . but of course she had to punish me nonetheless."

"What a tortured childhood you led," I said with mock sympathy.

"I know," James agreed with a dramatic sigh.

Upon entering the common room, we found the Marauders restored to their full number, Remus having returned from the Hospital Wing.

"Moony, how're you?" James asked as the two of us joined them by the fire.

"Oh, fantastic, naturally," Remus replied, with just a hint of irony.

Peter cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Er, Lily?" he addressed me. I glanced at him questioningly. "I'm, er, supposed to tell you to go to bed," he said this last bit in a rush, his cheeks pink.

"Merlin, Wormtail, at least take the girl to dinner first," Sirius said, causing Peter to blush harder.

"Right," I said, ignoring Sirius, "thanks, Peter." I had a sneaking suspicion I was about to find out where my boyfriend had been all day, and I assumed the others were having similar thoughts. "Well, have a good night, all."

"You too," Sirius said with a wicked grin, and I sighed, though I found myself looking at James for his reaction. He grinned at me as well, just as I'd've expected before . . . well, before his odd reaction this morning. _Maybe it really is just Quidditch . . ._

When I reached my room, I found A.J. lounging casually in my desk chair. Glancing up as I entered, he grinned and hopped up to meet me in the middle of the room.

I gave him a long, well-deserved kiss, smiling in incredulity as I pulled back. "How'd you get up here?"

"James," he said simply, and I took that to mean Potter had shared his secret of accessing the girls' dormitories.

"And where've you been all day?"

"Oh, you know . . . around," he said vaguely.

I shook my head, and despite them being somewhat of a non sequitur, the words came out anyway, "I love you."

"And here I thought you weren't going to get me anything for our anniversary," A.J. murmured, leaning in to kiss me again.

**

* * *

A/N: I know, VOM-tastic (er, that's vomit-inducing for those of you who couldn't figure that out—I realized 'VOM-tastic' is something only my friends and I say ****) there at the end with all the cheesy-ness. And yes, you're all probably going "what is this fuckery?" So, let the hating begin—don't worry, I can take it ;) Just so you know, though, this is actually the beginning of the end of A.J., ironic as it may seem….so, ponder THAT when you're falling asleep at night….or something.**


	29. On Your Mind

**A/N: First, a thank you to the lovely reviewers: Meeeee, Abi, L.C. Li, swishflick, LilyxJames, Jojo, WobblyJelly, existence555, AliLuvsAlli-Sirius, Spicysweetchica101, AnthroBug84, ZoneSystems, PaddyWhacked080, WhereIsMyThumpThump, Tabbycat270, lilyandjames53, jak23, Jenn222, Cassie Weasley, marinewife08, ramitaarora, EchoNightFall22, ottoismydog, Papoose913, ErinFabu, Ace-reporter, Evisawesome, mandy., emandem, Sam-EvansBlue, GiantPurpleRing, LillieRoxMySox, Elless, fisforphenomenal, steel-trap, theycallherkaush, arelli-black, lagirl266, Happy, Nathymoonybr, Bittersweet x, cscorpia, Foreverandtrulyyours, vampire5596, xxjenlovexx, cottoncancylover11, GriffinRose maximum destined potter, PoseidonsLittleGirl, DarlingILoveYou, I'm A Cuckoo (no Sirius really in this chapter, but yes, there'll be more of him in future ones, b/c I love him too!), xLycheeRAiN, Vanillaberries, sjm95x, and Swallow in the Cloud!**

**Second, I know people have been anxious for updates, and I know I started to get on the pattern of updating slightly more than once a week, but for some reason the seventh year chapters are proving harder to write! I don't know if it's the pressure to make them really good, since we're coming up on the end, or what, but I'm fairly certain we'll be back to once a week updates for the rest of the story, sorry!**

**And third, A.J. Oh A.J. It's actually kind of funny—the reactions range from "oh, I'm going to feel so bad for him when Lily dumps him!" to "Die, you bastard!" And for those of you leaning towards the latter end of the spectrum, **_**hang in there**_**! Unfortunately, they don't go to Durmstrang, so I can't just push him off a glacier and make it look like an accident, but **_**I promise **_**there are definite cracks appearing in their relationship wall in this chapter (okay, weird metaphor). Plus, some L/J bonding. So, you know, look forward to that ;)**

**

* * *

Chapter 28:** **On Your Mind**

When James threw himself down in a chair across from me in the library on a Sunday night in mid-October, it took me by surprise, not least because he was never in the library. And when he immediately commanded, "Don't talk to me," I was not only taken aback, but confused and a little affronted as well.

"That's a bit rude." James just glared at me. "Well, why did you sit here, then, if you didn't want to talk to anyone?" I pressed.

"It's not—look, can you just, for once, not be difficult?"

"Oh, like you're one to talk."

"Evans," he bit out around clenched teeth.

I held up my hands in surrender, turning back to my Charms homework. But, curiosity getting the better of me, I quickly scribbled on a spare bit of parchment "_So, what are you really doing here?_" and slid it towards James.

He read it, and I caught the slight twitch of his lips, even as he attempted to look disapproving. Snapping his fingers to get my attention, he pointed to my quill and held out his hand, as he had brought nothing into the library with him. Jotting down a reply, he pushed the paper back to me.

_This still counts as talking, you know._

_ Hardly. _I wrote back. _The very definition of 'talking' involves some sort of audible component._

James snorted softly as I passed him the quill again. _Swot._

_ Prick._

_ Fine._

_ So?_

_ Well, I just needed to be around someone who has no passing interest in Qui—I can't even write the word, but you know what I mean._ He tossed the parchment and quill back to me.

_ Actually, I've discovered that I rather enjoy it, thanks to you._ I smiled sweetly at James as I passed the note back.

_ Evans, you really don't want to provoke me right now._

_ But it's so much fun . . . plus, it's about time for a little payback, don't you think?_

James raised his eyebrows warily. _I'm disturbed by how much that sounded like me . . ._

_ Damn, you're right. Scary._

_ Definitely._

I shook my head, smiling slightly. _Right, so, moving on. I suppose it's better that we're communicating this way, after all, since you're technically not supposed to talk in the library._

_ I've done plenty of things you're not supposed to do in the library._

Looking up at James, I found him grinning mischievously. _Please, spare me_, I wrote back.

_ If you insist._

_ So, were they really that horrible?_

_I should say not—most of them were rather enjoyable, actually._

I sighed in irritation. _Not what I meant, Potter._

_ Well, you should try to be more specific then, shouldn't you?_

_ Apparently. I _meant_ Quidditch trials._

James shot me a horrified look and impatiently snatched the quill back from me. _Why. Would. You. Mention. That._

_ I'll take that as a yes, then. That they were horrible._

_ You don't want to know._

_ I think you're just being melodramatic._

_ And I think you're one mis-inked word away from igniting my terrible wrath._

Before I could stop it, a snort of laughter escaped me, earning us a couple of annoyed glares from those studying in silence around us.

I glanced at James to find him staring at me solemnly, slowly shaking his head in disappointment. _You're setting a terrible example for the student population, Miss Head Girl._

_ Oh shut it, Potter._

_ So, what d'you say we get out of here, Flower?_

Looking at my table companion, I wasn't surprised to find him raising his eyebrows suggestively. Shooting him a glare in response, I scribbled back, _As tempting as that is (and yes, I _am _being sarcastic), I really need to finish this. _When James glanced up after reading my note, I held up my Charms book in explanation.

James rolled his eyes and wrote back, _Merlin, you _are _boring._

Before I could pen a retort, A.J. entered the open area where we were sitting. I smiled at him, and James twisted in his seat to see who I was looking at. Upon spotting his Seeker, he turned back to me with a grimace. "Well, that's my cue, Flower," he whispered, apparently still not willing to hang around any reminders of Quidditch. I'd have to ask A.J. what could possibly have happened to make Potter so disillusioned about his favorite sport.

"Hey, Potter," A.J. greeted his captain with slightly less than the usual cheer.

I heard James say "Rookie," quietly in response, and then he was gone, concealed by the tall stacks of books.

Plopping down in the chair beside me with a sigh, my boyfriend leaned over to kiss me. "Hi," he said softly, pulling out his own homework.

"Hey—were tryouts really that bad?" I asked, nodding in the direction James had gone.

A.J. made a face. "It was . . . I mean, not exactly _bad_, per say, but . . . well, I'll tell you later, when we can actually talk at a reasonable level." He smirked slightly, and I glanced down at James's and my recent written correspondence, unconsciously reaching out with my hand to cover the paper.

**OOOOOOOO**

"So, what happened?" I prompted the minute we'd left the quiet confines of the library.

A.J. sighed, "Oh, nothing out of the ordinary, I don't think. You know, the usual group of Hufflepuffs tried to sneak in; some of the more clever Ravenclaws actually managed to fly for a bit before James called them out; and of course there was a huge mass of first years that could barely fly, and they're not allowed to try out anyway . . ."

"I knew he was being overdramatic," I cut in, shaking my head.

"Well, that wasn't everything," A.J. said. "Aside from it lasting for about three hours, there were also a bunch of Gryffindors there heckling Potter for his refusal to try out old players against new contenders. So that was a bit disruptive, and James actually ended up losing it at one point and nearly hexing them off the pitch—" I winced—"which isn't exactly going to improve their opinion of him."

"But he doesn't care about that, does he?" I asked in some surprise.

"Well, it's hard for him to realize not everyone worships the ground he walks on, I think," A.J. said with a grin, causing me to laugh. More seriously, he added, "Even though he pretends otherwise, I think it does actually stress him out a lot, you know, all the pressure to produce a winning team . . . though he needn't worry—he's a brilliant captain."

I contemplated this for a moment, before deciding that trying to imagine James stressed about anything was too strange. "When did you get so perceptive?" I teased my boyfriend instead.

"I guess it's just a byproduct of dating you," he replied.

"Right," I scoffed. "Because I'm such a brilliant people person."

"That has nothing to do with it."

"Well, thanks anyway," I said, kissing him on the cheek. "It's sweet that you don't think I'm completely clueless." We walked in silence for a while, and then I spoke again. "So, I've been thinking . . ." I started, not quite sure how to phrase what I was about to say. But it had been on my mind a lot lately, and I needed to get it out. "Look, don't take this the wrong way or anything but . . . why do you love me?"

A.J. stopped walking, turning to face me in surprise. "What do you mean?"

I sighed. "I mean exactly what I said."

"Well," he said slowly, "I don't know—"

"I thought you might say something like that," I said, though not accusatorily. In fact, I was a bit shocked at how relieved it made me feel.

"Hang on," A.J. said, frowning, "I wasn't—you just caught me off guard with the question, that's all . . . 'I don't know' isn't my answer—"

"Yes, but . . . the thing is, I don't think I could answer the question for you, either," I said.

"You mean you don't know why you love me?" A.J. asked, now sounding a little angry. "So, what—you never actually meant to say it in the first place? Are you saying we should just call it quits, you know, give it up as a bad job—"

"What? No, that's not what I'm saying at all! Just—don't you think you're overacting?"

"Well, Merlin, Lily—how am I supposed to react to that?" he demanded, light eyes flashing.

I paused before answering, striving to keep my voice calm. "I just think that we're both too young to—"

A.J. snorted. "—to 'know what love means'?" he quipped derisively. "That's not an excuse; plenty of _adults _haven't got a clue what it means either."

"Fine!" I said, losing my temper at last. "Then I'm saying _I _don't know what it means, and . . . well, I'm not sure where that leaves us." Silence fell between us, A.J. staring at me with a hard look in his eyes, while I met his gaze determinedly. I knew this was something I should have brought up much earlier, but I'd been distracted last year by things with Remus, my fight with Potter, and the kissing incident, and I hadn't gotten around to it. Not that it was an excuse, and I could understand why A.J. was angry, but . . . I'd been starting to wonder lately if telling him I loved him had been a mistake. I mean, I thought I'd meant it then, and I felt completely horrible admitting otherwise now—

"So, you don't love me," A.J. interjected quietly, cutting into my thoughts.

"I don't know," I said in a small voice.

He sighed, looking away at last. His eyes had lost their fiery look; it had been replaced by a defeated expression that was almost harder to face. "Because you're funny, and smart, and you always say exactly what's on your mind," A.J. said suddenly, meeting my eyes again. "Because I'm always happier around you, even if I'm already having a brilliant day. Because I missed you like crazy over the summer. And because I can't go a day without thinking about how I wouldn't want to be with anyone else. So . . . that's how I know."

The first thing I felt was a thrill of fear. This was quickly smothered, however, by an overwhelming guilt. "A.J., I—" I started, with no real idea what to say. Sighing, I figured I might as well go with the truth. "The only reason I thought I loved you was because I said it when Mary and I were talking, and it was one of those moments where I just blurted it out without thinking . . . so I figured that must mean it was true." It sounded incredibly naïve, and it was all I could do to keep from cringing.

But, to my surprise, A.J.'s expression was one of relief. Smiling, he said, "Well, that makes perfect sense to me." And I didn't have the heart to disagree.

**OOOOOOOO**

I was starting to think that I'd been slightly delusional to have always hoped in the back of my mind I might be Head Girl seventh year. I didn't mind that sorting out the prefect patrol schedules took far longer than it should, since we had to work around various Quiddtich practices, club meetings, and study group sessions. I wasn't too annoyed when the Hufflepuff prefects, who'd been dating at the beginning of the year, broke up at the end of October and started taking House points from each other out of spite (don't worry, I didn't understand it either). And it wasn't even due to the alternating apprehension and guilt I felt whenever I let myself worry that James might eventually do something so irresponsible that I wouldn't just be able to let it slide. No, what really made me want to take my Head Girl badge and fling it into the lake was rounds.

Objectively, I didn't protest having to do them six nights a week, and having James as my partner made them easier. But it was also N.E.W.T. year, and returning to the common room at ten only to face at least two more hours of homework every night was starting to chip away at my sanity. Theoretically, it should have been worse for James, since he often had Quidditch practice in the afternoons as well, but he somehow nearly always finished his work before me anyway. Which only served to annoy me further, though I couldn't help but be grudgingly impressed regardless.

Enviable brilliance or no, evening usually found James and I as the last ones in the common room, and it was no different the Thursday before Gryffindor's first Quidditch match of the season. Remus, Sirius, and Peter had disappeared to their dormitory almost an hour ago, with the vague excuse that they had to 'plan for the weekend.' Sirius, of course, got off a parting shot about James's 'disgrace to the Marauder name,' as he was still working on McGonagall's human transfiguration essay for tomorrow. James had been surly and taciturn ever since. Mary had just gone up to bed, and A.J., who'd been sitting beside me on the fireside couch I currently occupied, finally stretched, announced that he was going to call it a night as well, and leaned in to kiss me good night. "See you tomorrow, Lil. Love you."

"Love you, too," I said, running the words together slightly as I blushed and determinedly avoided looking at James. I couldn't help glancing at him after A.J. had ascended the stairs, and was rewarded with a knowing smirk. "Oh shut up," I grumbled, dipping my quill a bit too forcefully into the ink bottle, creating a slight shower of black spots on the table between James and me. I was defensive not only because it was James, but because I hated that I'd let myself be guilted back into saying it again. After my disastrous conversation with A.J. a few weeks ago, I hadn't worked up the courage to broach the subject again, even though I knew I'd left it unfinished.

"Just because you're a love cynic," I continued to James, "doesn't mean—"

"I am most certainly _not _a love cynic," James interrupted, affronted.

I looked up again to roll my eyes at him. "You don't believe in love."

"And where would you get such an idea?"

"Straight from that excessively mobile mouth of yours."

"I never said—"

"Yes, you did—on A.J.'s and my anniversary. And last week, when we overheard that fifth year talking to her friend about Jimmy and Erin's"—those were the Hufflepuff prefects—"break up. She said it was such a shock, because they'd been 'so obviously in love,' and you just snorted and said, 'Who believes in love, anyway?'"

"Well, it was a rhetorical question."

"But if you ask a rhetorical question like that, it implies that you don't—"

"So now you're just making assumptions about me?"

I sighed, trying to glare at him, but ending up smiling in reluctant amusement nevertheless. "All right, fine—I'm sorry I just _assumed _you didn't believe in love."

"Apology accepted," James replied with a sniff. Then he grinned and added, "But, you have to admit there's _no way _those two were in love."

"Well, I never disagreed with you on that."

"A first, I think."

I threw someone's discarded quill at him.

**OOOOOOOO**

Forty-five minutes later, I became aware of the fact that James was staring at me. Abandoning my essay for the second time that night, I asked, "Can I help you with something?"

"No," he said easily.

"You're staring at me," I pointed out.

"Yes," James agreed pleasantly, leaning back and propping his legs up on the table.

"Well, I'd really rather you didn't." I started writing again, only to look up in exasperation moments later. "If you're waiting to gloat about finishing the homework before me _again_, I'm prepared to become momentarily deaf. So you might as well just go to bed."

"Ah, but it's much more entertaining watching you."

I paused. "That's a bit . . . creepy," I said eventually. Then, "What do you want, Potter?"

"Who says I want anything? Maybe I'm simply down here to enjoy the pleasure of your company until you've—"

"_James_," I said warningly.

He raised his eyebrows. "Oh, so you're using my first name again, but only when you're especially pissed at me?"

"That's not—stop changing the subject!"

"Well, I'm just curious. But I do actually need a favor from you."

"What?" I asked apprehensively.

"No, not until we clear up this first name business. It's about time we did, don't you think? Lily?" he added with a smirk.

I sighed. "Fine. But honestly, though, don't you find it a bit . . . weird, calling me 'Lily'?"

"You know, I really don't, Lily. And I'm a bit offended, Lily, that you still can't call me 'James,' Lily. It is, frankly, a little ridiculous. Lily." He was grinning again.

"If you really do need a favor from me, I might suggest not provoking me."

"All right," James conceded, apparently choosing to drop the names discussion in lieu of what he wanted. Removing his feet from the table, he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "It is a well-kept secret that the Marauders are the sole providers of food for the Quidditch after-parties."

I snorted. "No it's not; that isn't a secret to anyone."

"Right, well, what _is _a secret is that preparations traditionally begin on Thursday evenings."

Raising my eyebrows at that, I asked, "Is that really necessary?"

"Of course it is. Everything that I do is necessary, Evans. Anyway, we discovered that if we bring up the drinks on Thursday night, it's a lot easier to just worry about sneaking food up in small amounts all day Friday and early Saturday morning. Plus, the teachers aren't expecting us to plan ahead so far as to be suspicious Thursday night."

"You've really thought this through, haven't you?"

"We take party prep very seriously."

"Clearly. Where do you put it all?"

"Our dormitory," he said simply, and I realized that made sense. It was just the four of them in our year, after all. No one to snitch on them.

"I'm still not seeing where I come in."

"Well, I told the others I'd take care of it this time, but I might require some assistance."

"Why'd you promise to do it if you weren't sure I'd help you?"

"Oh, but I knew you would," he said confidently.

"Really? And why is that?" I was debating refusing his request, just to wipe the sure smile off his face.

"Because I'm so irresistible," he said, hazel eyes glinting with amusement.

"Sure, of course." After a moment, I sighed. "Fine—what do we do first?"

**OOOOOOOO**

Half an hour later, we were making our way back to Gryffindor Tower, two gigantic crates of butterbeer and . . . other beverages levitated before us. The fact that it was after curfew, and we were more than a little conspicuous, was making me anxious, and I cast around for something to distract me. My mind settled on the conversation about Quidditch trials A.J. and I had had a few days ago.

"Are you nervous?" I asked, realizing as I said it that James would have no idea what I was referring to.

Predictably, he shot me a confused look. "Of what? That the house elves might suddenly go rogue and turn me in? That one wrong move could send this entire crate of butterbeers crashing down around us? Or that you have a wand in your hand that could at any second be turned on me?" He said the final bit with a cheeky grin in my direction.

"No—though I wouldn't necessarily rule that last one out. I meant for the match on Saturday."

James frowned at me. "I'm never nervous for Quiddtich matches. Or anything, for that matter."

I frowned back at him. "That's a lie, Potter, and you know it. Besides, it's stupid not to get nervous about anything."

"Indeed? How do you figure that?" he replied.

"Well, for one thing, it actually motivates you to improve; like, if you're a little nervous before an exam, then you're extra-alert and therefore perform better. And anxiety is part of the basis of a conscience . . . oh wait, I'm sorry; I forgot you don't have one of those." I matched his cheeky grin from earlier.

"It's more fun that way, I've always thought."

We reached the empty common room and continued to levitate our loads straight into James's Head bedroom. I stopped dead just inside the doorway at the sight of it, however. Clothes were strewn haphazardly around the floor, hanging off the end of the bed, and thrown carelessly over the back of his desk chair. Spare bits of parchment, empty ink bottles, and broken bits of quills littered the surface of his desk. His school books were piled hastily at the foot of his bed, and his bookbag hung off the handle of the bathroom door.

"Yeah, it's a little messy," James said unconcernedly, correctly interpreting the look on my face.

"You think?" I said, shaking my head. "How do you live here?"

"Quite well, thank you." He let his crate of drinks come to a landing in the small part of floor in the center of the room that was devoid of clutter.

I copied his actions, saying, "And here I thought you were being vulgar when you said you'd put your single room to good use. But there's no way you've brought a girl up here."

"I brought you, didn't I?"

I looked up from the crate I'd just settled next to James's, and our eyes met briefly before James turned away, suddenly looking uncomfortable. Thinking how it would look if someone caught me coming out of his room right now, what they'd probably assume, I blushed and wondered whether I should leave. But as I glanced around at the door, my eyes passed over James's desk again, and I found myself starting towards it.

"You're not going to start cleaning, are you?" James asked teasingly, but there was an apprehensive edge to his voice as well.

I didn't answer, merely started snatching up the crumpled pieces of parchment and broken quills and dumping them into the rubbish bin next to the desk.

"Merlin," I heard James mutter behind me, and couldn't help the smirk that spread across my face at his tone. "Just don't throw away anything important," he instructed, and I heard him begin to move towards me.

As I cleared away the layer of rubbish, a newspaper heading on a discarded _Daily Prophet _caught my eye. It was from that morning, and it read: _Ministry Concerns Heighten Over Raider Activity_.

I turned quickly, and James, who had come up behind me, took a surprised step back. "This is getting serious, isn't it?" I asked, holding out the paper.

He raised his eyebrows. "You know, for someone who takes responsibility so seriously, Evans, I'm surprised at your lack of current event knowledge."

I blushed faintly again at his remonstration, though he'd said it jokingly. "Well, I—that is—look, I don't get the _Prophet_, okay?" I said defensively.

"And whose fault is that? It's only two Knuts an issue."

"Not all of us can afford to just fritter our money away, Potter."

"I wouldn't call it 'frittering.' In fact, I don't think I'd ever use such an absurd word to describe anything." Before I could tell him off for mocking me, he added, "Besides, if you don't want to pay for it, there are always extra copies in the teachers' lounge. So really, there's no excuse for you not to know what's going on."

"And how would you know what's in the teachers' lounge? I figured you'd avoid the place like bubotuber pus, what with all the concentrated authority it contains."

"Perceptive of you, Evans, but the teachers' lounge does have its uses. Especially if one wants to find out when McGonagall might be inclined to throw us a pop quiz. Or find a good place to—"

"—hang Mrs. Norris from a chandelier?" I asked, remembering something he'd said last year.

James grinned. "If you're into that kind of thing, I suppose." Assuming a solemn expressing, he added, "Though, about the 'concentrated authority' bit, I can't really be adverse to those sorts of things now, can I?"

"You mean as Head Boy."

James nodded.

"Oh, I'm sure you'll still find a way," I said sardonically.

The grin springing back onto his face, James said, "Yes, I'll probably be able to work something out." He walked over to sit on the edge of his bed, and I followed suit, still clutching the _Daily Prophet_. James looked around his room, frowning slightly, and suddenly directed his wand at the clothes scattered over the floor, causing them to fly into the far corner of the room. I raised my eyebrows at him, but he just shrugged. "I was inspired."

"By what?"

"You, of course."

I looked over at the mound of dirty clothes. "That's hardly better."

James shrugged again. "I'll just put them out for the house elves tomorrow."

"How . . . spoiled rich boy of you," I said dryly, and James glared indignantly at me.

"I'll have you know that I clean my own room at home, help elderly witches cross the street, and make a point to save a puppy or other small animal at least once a week."

I laughed. "I suppose that evens things out, then. Though if you're room at home is anything like this, I'd hardly call that cleaning."

"Well, I figure it's my room, so it only matters than I can live in it," James said, lying back on his bed.

"I guess." I glanced down at the _Prophet _article again. "So, d'you reckon these Raiders are just as big of a threat as the Death Eaters, now?" I tried to keep my voice light, as though I were merely curious, but the way James looked at me made me think I'd failed miserably.

"Dunno," he said seriously, propping himself up on his elbows. "I expect not, seeing as they don't really have the same organizational structure as the Death Eaters. You know, no Voldemort," he added with a somewhat mirthless smile.

"Do you think they'd join him, if they could?"

"Well, Moony figures they don't—"

"—don't have enough conviction or . . . motivation, I guess, to go that far; yeah, I know," I finished for him. "But what do you think?"

James was quiet for a moment. "I think Voldemort'd be an idiot not to try and recruit them," he said finally, baldly, with no attempt to sugarcoat things for me. Though I wasn't sure why I though he might. His lips quirked suddenly. "And unfortunately, Voldemort is anything but an idiot."

I nodded, looking away from him again. Eventually, I said quietly, "You know why I don't get the _Prophet_?" James didn't answer, but I could feel him watching me. "I just . . . don't want to know. I don't want to know about the families that have been murdered, or people who've been tortured. I mean, being here at Hogwarts . . . it doesn't seem quite so real, and it's easier to just . . ."

"Pretend it isn't happening?" James asked, and there was no judgment in his voice, for which I was grateful.

"Yes," I said, almost inaudibly. "Pretty awful, huh?" I asked bitterly.

James sat up, and I finally turned to look at him. "You're not a coward, Lily," he stated bluntly.

I snorted. "Because I'm in Gryffindor, right?" I asked with a wry smile.

"No, because you're you," he said firmly.

I waited for him to elaborate, before realizing that he wasn't going to and, moreover, that I didn't need him to. "Thank you," I said, and James nodded. "But it's still stupid of me." James sighed and opened his mouth to argue, but I cut him off. "No, listen—I know it's stupid; you're not going to convince me it isn't. As soon as we leave here, maybe even before that, I'm going to have to face . . . all of it. Especially since I'm . . . well, it's not like I could even take the coward's way out and join him, because I . . ."

"You're the one they're after," James finished for me again. He said it without pity, or doubt, or even concern, just stated the truth. Like he always did.

"Yes." I winced slightly. "Morbid, that, isn't it?" I asked, trying to lighten the mood.

James lay down again without saying anything, a look in his hazel eyes that I couldn't identify.

I lay back as well, and we were quiet for a long time. "James?" I said finally, turning slightly to face him.

I watched his lips twitch upwards briefly as he replied, "Yes?"

"Do you think anyone's ever going to stop him? Voldemort, I mean?"

"Well, I was planning on doing it tomorrow during morning break, but—"

I laughed again, kicking him lightly. "Be serious."

James turned his head to the side to meet my eyes. "Someone—or several someones, perhaps—is bound to one of these days. He can't stay in power forever," he said confidently.

"I hope you're right." I suddenly realized how close our faces were, his nose a mere three inches from mine. Sitting up quickly, I added, "Well, now that I'm officially depressed about the state of the world, I should get to bed."

"Well, I'm always happy to depress, so you're welcome," James said, pushing himself up on the bed and to his feet in one fluid motion. He walked over to the door and held it open for me.

I stood as well, smiling as I moved past James. "Good night."

"Likewise. Oh, and Lily?" I turned around in the doorframe. "I'm always nervous before Quidditch matches—and no, you're not allowed to repeat that to anyone."

I grinned at him. "Of course."

**

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A/N: See, told you there would be bonding ;) Have a good week, everyone!**


	30. Better Way

**Thanks to last week's reviewers: starlight564 (yes, weekly updates on Sundays have been my recent thing), Dozy Dora, Elless, MissArtemisFowl, junebugbug96, emandem, dopey4dobby, WobblyJelly, Tribot (actually, I think it's going to be more like 34 or 35 chapters now….), Snape1918, blissedoutvixen, jak23, WhereIsMyThumpThump, liz2cute4u, breezieair, 2k11 (HAHAHA that review made me laugh!), isigirl, Abi, quest4candy, EchoNightFall22, Ace-reporter, lilyandjames53, Molly Raesly, Cledism is my religion, marinewife08, Tabbycat270, WaveRider 53, sjm95x, swishflick (haha, nope, not awkward at all ****:)), silk399, ErinFabu, theycallherkaush, IIManzaII, ottoismydog, tardisinthesgc, MiTosesRTotallyRoses ('bout….five-ish chapters left?), ramitaarora, ZoneSystems, merlincrazy, I'm A Cuckoo, Cassie Cayne, Yreva13, Marauder'sGirlCuzI'mUp2NoGood (have I seen AVPM/AVPS? Is that even a question? Haha, I DEFINITELY have—all good HP fans should—and LOVE them to death), fisforphenomenal, Bittersweet x (hmm, interesting get-rid-of-A.J. plan….I'm assuming this means you're suggesting I ship him off to Pigfarts, then? ****;)), arelli-black, AliLuvsAlli-Sirius (I don't really like tea, actually), xxjenlovexx, Meeeee, PoseidonsLittleGirl (maybe 5 more chapters?), and xLycheeRAiN!**

**So, I have a "Marauders" playlist on my iTunes that I often listen to while writing (haha, I know, I'm sooooo cool!)—just a bunch of songs that remind me, however specifically or vaguely, of those pranksters we all know and love ;) Anyway, it got me thinking—have any of you got any good L/J songs you like? I'm rather attached to "Love Like Woe" by The Ready Set right now…..**

**Okay, random tangent, sorry. Moving on….As requested by marinewife08, here's a summary of the last chapter: A.J. and Lily fight about the meaning of love (wow, that sounds epic, haha), but Lily eventually lets it drop, though she feels conflicted about doing so. James convinces her to help him prepare for the impending Quidditch after-party shenanigans, and they bond over deep life issues and stuff. At the end, James confesses to Lily that he always gets nervous for Quidditch matches.**

**Wow, I'm crap at summaries.**

**

* * *

Chapter 29:** **Better Way**

When I entered the Great Hall with Mary on Saturday morning, I was pleased to see the ceiling showed clear, sunny skies. Though I'd been telling James the truth when I'd said Quidditch was quickly growing on me, I still didn't fancy sitting through a match in terrible weather. But today was, as James put it just after we'd sat down—

"A perfect day for Quidditch." He took a deep, satisfied breath, grinning excitedly around at his fellow teammates, all of whom seemed a bit less than enthusiastic. In fact, Janice and Christopher, the new Chaser and Keeper, respectively, looked more ready to run for the toilet to throw up than fly around a Quidditch pitch. James, noticing the lack of reaction as well, frowned. "Well, isn't it?"

"'Course it is, mate," Sirius said, "but you always say that before a match."

"That's because any day is a perfect day for Quidditch. And even if it wasn't, I'd expect you all to agree with me anyway," he added, tone stern.

"Ravenclaw's actually good this year, though," A.J. pointed out. "They killed Slytherin in that first match—no one was expecting that."

"I have a feeling you shouldn't have said that," I murmured to my boyfriend, who spared me a quick grin before turning to face his captain.

James met his stare evenly, not speaking until A.J. glanced away again, looking slightly uncomfortable. "You going to catch me a Snitch, Rookie?"

"Yes," A.J. agreed quickly, and James nodded in satisfaction.

"You know," I started conversationally, "that nickname doesn't really apply anymore, since he's not the newest—right, don't disagree with you about anything on a match day," I interrupted myself hurriedly, catching sight of the look on James's face.

"Fast learner, that one," Sirius commented, winking at me.

"Just don't really fancy getting hexed off the planet today," I said. "Another day, maybe."

"Let me know, yeah?" James said, the hint of a smirk twisting his lips.

"Will do," I said cheerfully, buttering a piece of toast and taking a bite.

"So, Miss Mary," James continued, turning to my best friend, "bit of an interesting day for you, eh? What, do you usually sit with the Hufflepuffs, just to neutralize things?"

"No, she cheers for Gryffindor, of course," I interjected quickly, wanting to save Mary from having to go into the whole Andrew-and-I-split-up thing.

She shot me a smile of thanks, but said anyway, "No, no conflicted loyalties anymore, actually."

James frowned, but Sirius said, "You ended it with Mackey, then?"

Mary nodded.

"Really?" James said. "Brilliant—good for you. Always thought he was a bit daft."

I reached around A.J. to smack his arm. "Sensitivity, James, come on."

"Oh, right. Er, sorry."

"It's fine," Mary assured him. "Lily's just got herself convinced that I'm not properly upset about it, even though I've told her a million times that I'm perfectly all right."

"Well, Evans hasn't ever been shot of a bloke, so she wouldn't understand," James said knowledgeably.

I crossed my arms indignantly. "Neither have you, and yet you're claiming to 'understand.'"

"I'm doing no such thing."

"You assumed she _wouldn't _be cut up about it, which is just as bad as what I've done—worse, in fact, because if she d—"

"The point is," James cut in, "unless you're ready to chuck Rookie, you really can't have a say in the matter, Evans." He was grinning and his tone was joking enough, but the look in his eyes as they met mine made my stomach turn uncomfortably. It was almost as though—

"I said, right Lily?" came A.J.'s voice from beside me.

"What?" I said, breaking eye contact with James.

"You're not ready to chuck me, are you?"

"What? No, of course not," I said. "Of course not," I repeated, shooting James a reproachful look. He was still grinning, but now it reached his eyes.

"Well, now that we've assured ourselves of that, time to go win a Quidditch match," James announced, standing and gesturing for the rest of his team to do the same.

"Wish us luck, ladies," Sirius said, adding to Mary, "Maybe I'll find you at the after party, Macdonald." He raised his eyebrows, a wicked glint in his eyes.

"Not going to happen, Sirius," she said firmly.

Sirius shrugged. "Ah well—worth a try."

I stood with the team to give A.J. a good luck kiss. "Seek well . . . or, you know—whatever."

"Well said," A.J. teased.

"Sod off," I said, shoving him in the direction of the Entrance Hall. He laughed and started after his teammates.

"That's love, right there," James commented. Sirius clapped him on the shoulder as he passed, but still James continued to look at me expectantly. "Well?" he prompted.

I raised a questioning eyebrow. "Well . . . what?"

"Aren't you going to wish me good luck?"

"I didn't think you needed it," I said sweetly. "Nothing to be _nervous _about, is there?"

James frowned at me. "All right, no need to rub it in."

"What's the matter? You can dish it out, but you can't take it, is that it?"

"Fine—I'm leaving," he said, adopting an affected air.

"Okay, I'm sorry," I said, laughing and grabbing his arm to stop him walking away. "Good luck," I added, and, without quite knowing what made me do it, I stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek.

As my heels touched down again, I found James giving me that same look of surprise he'd had after I'd hugged him on Platform nine and three-quarters. But, as he had then, he turned without comment and left the Great Hall.

I sat back down to find Mary looking at me oddly.

"What?"

But all she said was, "We should probably head down soon as well if we want good seats."

**OOOOOOOO**

We met up with Remus and Peter on the way down to the Quidditch pitch, and the four of us founds seats together in the magically raised stands.

"There's something about a match day, isn't there?" Mary inquired of no one in particular as we waited for the teams to emerge from the changing rooms. "A certain feeling in the air, or . . . oh, I don't know."

"Poetic," I said dryly, earning a glare from my friend.

"Well, I always like to think of it as a prediction about how the next few days will go," Remus said.

"What do you mean?" Mary asked.

"If we win, Sirius and James will be strutting around like they're the bleeding kings of England—"

"In other words, behaving just as usual, then," I said.

Remus grinned at me before continuing, "But if we lose . . ."

"They're about as fun to be around as a dead flobberworm," Peter finished.

Mary and I laughed. "So, neither of you ever caught the Quidditch fever," I observed after a moment. "How's that?"

"You mean, why didn't we ever try out for the team?" Remus asked. I nodded, and he shrugged. "Dunno. Guess I just never fancied sitting on a broom for hours while dodging people dead set on knocking me off or seriously injuring me with viciously heavy black balls."

I raised my eyebrows. "Better never let Potter hear you talk like that."

"Oh, he already knows my opinion on the matter. Doesn't mean I don't enjoy watching the matches, of course."

"And that's acceptable to him?" I teased.

Remus shrugged again. "That, and I occasionally allow him and Sirius to force me into playing a two-a-side match with Wormtail over the summer holidays."

"Ah, the heavy price of friendship," I said wisely, causing Remus to grin at me again.

"So, what about you, Peter?" Mary asked.

The other Marauder wrinkled his nose. "I'm rubbish at flying," he said.

"Can't be worse than us," Mary said, gesturing between herself and me.

"Oh, I think he is, actually," Remus supplied helpfully, but Peter didn't even try to argue.

I raised my eyebrows. "Well, maybe I should have another go at it with you instead of James," I said. "Even if it is third on the list."

Both Remus and Peter frowned at me. "What list?" Peter asked.

"Potter was teasing me last year about how I'd never been in detention, gotten drunk, or flown properly—or at least without making a complete prat of myself—on a broom. So, of course he decided he'd better make it his personal mission to remedy the situation."

"Well, he had nothing to do with you getting that detention last year," Remus pointed out.

"No, nor did he have any affect on my . . . beverage choices at his birthday." Here I glanced back at the Quidditch pitch, unwilling to meet Remus's eyes as I brought up the source of our falling out.

Lucky for me, Remus didn't get the chance to answer as Quidditch commentator Charlie Hanson's magically magnified voice boomed across the pitch to start announcing the teams. Fourteen scarlet and blue blurs took to the air, and the match began.

**OOOOOOOO**

"Well, you're saved from a depressing week, at least," I commented to Remus in the common room two hours later. We were standing on the outskirts of the party celebrating Gryffindor's recent win.

"So it would seem," Remus agreed, smiling in amusement at his best mates as Sirius and James led the small crowd—including the other members of the Gryffindor team—around them in a rousing chorus of the Hogwarts school song. "Butterbeer?" he added, turning to the table behind us and offering me a bottle.

I accepted, clinking it against Remus's and taking a swig. "Cheers," I said. Then I frowned, unwillingly reminded of past Quidditch parties. They never seemed to go too well for me, what with James's kiss last year and the mess with Remus . . .

"Stop it, Lily," Remus demanded, and I turned to find him looking at me sternly.

"Well, you were obviously thinking about it too," I accused. "And I can't help feeling guilty every time I—"

"I told you, you don't need to keep apologizing."

"Still. I can't believe I almost let that happen. And I can't believe you're standing here now, trying to make me feel better about it."

Remus didn't answer, but after a moment he grinned suddenly and said, "I wonder what people would think if they'd been listening to us just now. Because it almost sounded like . . ." He trailed off, and I ran over our recent conversation in my head.

Jaw dropping in indignation, I hit his arm with my butterbeer bottle. "Remus Lupin, I'm shocked—I'd never have expected you of all people to possess a dirty mind."

"Blame Sirius, if you must."

"Oh, I intend to."

Remus grinned again, but he was no longer looking at me. Following his gaze, I was surprised to see Carin—the common denominator in my interactions with Remus at parties, it seemed—standing near the portrait hole, chatting with a couple people I didn't recognize. "What's she doing here?" I asked curiously.

"There are a lot of them here, actually."

I assumed he meant Ravenclaws and, upon closer inspection of the common room, I discovered he was right. "Weird. Well, that's school camaraderie for you, I suppose." But when I glanced up at Remus again, he didn't appear to have heard me. In fact, he was still staring at Carin. An idea sparking, I started to grin. "Oh, I see—you _do _fancy her, don't you?"

That got Remus's attention. "What? No," he said quickly, shifting his eyes to my face.

I just raised my eyebrows, and Remus reddened slightly. "Aha!" I said triumphantly.

"It's . . . I . . . it's nothing," Remus attempted to protest.

"Mhmm, sure it isn't," I said, continuing to grin knowingly.

Remus glared at me, then shook his head. "Well, I'm not—"

"Go talk to her," I interrupted. Remus looked at me doubtfully, and I gave him a little shove in the right direction. "Go!"

Sparing me one last glare, he walked over to Carin. Smiling in satisfaction as I watched her face light up at his approach, I quickly scanned the room for James, Sirius, or Peter, wanting their take on the matter. I spotted the first almost right away; he'd broken away from the crowd and was currently chatting up a pretty and petite brunette from Ravenclaw. He laughed loudly at something she said, and I sighed, muttering in annoyance, "Why are they even here?"

"All the Ravenclaws, you mean?" commented A.J. from beside me, and I jumped slightly, having missed his approach. "Sorry," he added, "didn't mean to startle you. As to your question—I don't know, really. James invited some of them after the match, just for a laugh, mostly, but then it sort of spread and . . . well, here they are."

"Here they are," I repeated, looking over again at James and his . . . friend. James was leaning casually against the wall next to her, twirling a bit of her hair around his finger. "Lovely." Suddenly not in the partying mood, I turned to A.J. "Look, can you do me a favor? If Potter's ever . . . free, will you remind him we have rounds tonight? And tell him I'd greatly appreciate it if he, one, actually showed up, and two, wasn't completely smashed."

"Sure," A.J. said, frowning. "But where are you going?"

"Upstairs—homework," I explained briefly.

"Come on, Lily—" A.J. started.

"Please just . . . I don't need you to tease me right now," I said shortly, not sure myself why I was suddenly angry.

"I wasn't teasing," he said, frowning. "I was just—" But apparently deciding against whatever he'd been about to say, he continued, "All right. Er, see you later, then?"

Feeling guilty for snapping at him, I kissed him lightly. "Sure."

Sparing James one last glance, I saw that he was now snogging the Ravenclaw girl. With a last derisive snort, I disappeared up the dormitory stairs.

**OOOOOOOO**

I couldn't focus on work, however. It might have been that the noise of the party was still faintly audible even several floors up, but I knew that wasn't what was truly distracting me. James and the Ravenclaw girl kept popping into my head. I didn't know why it bothered me so much, but . . . he'd never been the type to go snogging girls just for the hell of it, with no intention of starting anything with them—that was much more Sirius's territory. And for some reason, the fact that James was doing it now irritated and, quite frankly, disappointed me.

That disappointment only heightened when I returned to the common room several hours later. The party, of course, was still in full swing, and it took me a moment to locate the Head Boy. When I did, I let out a frustrated sigh. He was once again snogging the Ravenclaw brunette—no, wait a minute, it wasn't her. It was an entirely different girl; this one I was pretty sure was a Gryffindor fifth year, but I really wasn't going to bother making any effort to come up with her name. Making a noise of disgust in the back of my throat, I started angrily towards them.

A hand shot out and grabbed my arm, halting my progress. "Aw, have a heart, Evans, don't interrupt them," a slightly tipsy Sirius said.

I snatched my arm out of his grasp. "Well, unfortunately, Potter has other things to do right now. Rounds," I elaborated, when Sirius just looked at me in confusion.

"Ah, bad luck for Prongs," he said with mock sympathy. Then he grinned. "But good luck for me!"

I just rolled my eyes and continued towards Potter, pulling him none too gently away from the girl he was snogging. She shot me an affronted look, which I ignored, marching Potter towards the portrait hole.

"I'll be right back," he called over his shoulder at the girl. To me, he added, "Really, Evans, you could've just gotten in line. It'd be the courteous thing to do, after all."

I glared fiercely at him. "I'm not amused, Potter."

"Well, that much is obvious." Finally noting our current trajectory, he said, "Wait, where are you taking me?"

I stopped dead to face him. "You're kidding, right? I thought you said you'd never forget again."

Comprehension dawning, James nodded slowly. "Rounds, right. Damn."

I stalked out of the portrait hole, leaving Potter to follow me. He stumbled slightly over the threshold, but quickly caught up, easily keeping pace with my long, angry strides. "Seems bloody unfair, that we still have to do these. I mean, I've half a mind to go straight to McGonagall right now, and demand that we have Quidditch days off." He grinned at me, and I met his gaze suspiciously. It was like he hadn't even noticed my anger at all. The old Potter would have just ignored it, sure, but . . . Potter stumbled slightly again, and I stopped walking abruptly.

"Merlin, Potter, are you _drunk_?" I exploded.

"What? No, 'course not," he protested. "Well, maybe just a little," he added in a carrying whisper.

I gaped at him for a moment, tried to say something, but only ended up producing a sort of strangled sound in the back of my throat. I strode off along the corridor again, arms crossed tightly over my chest.

"Come on, Lily, it's not—" James started, hurrying after me once more.

I whirled around to face him, and his eyebrows shot up in surprise at my furious expression. "It's not what? Not that bad? Because that's complete bullshit, Potter! It _is _that bad, and you're just—I mean, you don't even _realize_ . . . Look, I don't care if you think this Head stuff is stupid, or if you think you've got to prove to Sirius that you don't really take the responsibilities seriously, but—"

"Oh, here we go," James shot back, rolling his eyes. "Another lecture on bloody _responsibility_. Honestly, is that _all _you can think about?"

"When you're acting like this, it is! I mean, what were you thinking? Really, Potter, I'm curious what exactly went through your head. Did you sit there and go, 'Right, I can afford to skip just this one time; rounds really aren't that important, and Lily'll probably cover for me anyway, so I might as well just get drunk and snog every girl in the room while—'"

"Ah, so that's what this is about then, is it?" Potter interrupted.

"What? No! For once, the extent of your shallowness is _not _my primary concern—"

"You sure? Because I really think it might be. Maybe you should get your story straight, Evans." And he walked away, leaving me to run after him this time.

"What is that supposed to mean?" I demanded.

"Nothing," Potter replied shortly.

"Look, Potter, there's obviously something you want to say, so—"

"You really want to know? It's you."

"What's me?"

"My problem."

"I'm your problem," I repeated. "How d'you work that one out?"

James let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his messy hair. "It's—you're—you're just—"

"I'm _what_?"

"So goddamned judgmental! All the time! You just have these—these impossibly high standards for everyone, and if they don't measure up, well, that's too bloody bad for them, isn't it? But you know what, Evans, not everyone's perfect. Hell, _you _sure aren't perfect! You think that doing the 'right thing' and always following the rules is what you're supposed to do, but really, it just makes you boring."

I blinked, stunned into silence. But then James did something that surprised me even more. His expression, so angry moments before, sort of crumpled, and he slid down against the nearest wall, elbows on his knees and head in his hands.

Without hesitating, I sat down beside him. "James, what's going on?" I asked quietly. Because somewhere in the middle of his ranting, I'd realized I wasn't the one he was angry at.

"I didn't mean it," he mumbled through his fingers.

"I know. What's going on?" I repeated.

He raised his head to look at me, hazel eyes expressionless. "My dad died," he stated bluntly.

"Er, I know," I said uncertainly.

"No, I mean today. Not—well, you know, seven years ago, but it was today. October twenty-fifth."

"Oh James, I'm sorry," I said, reaching for his hand. I gave it a quick squeeze, but as I made to let go, his fingers tightened around mine, and I let my hand remain in his grasp.

"No, I'm the one who should be apologizing. I mean, it's no excuse to act like a git—maybe if it really _had _just happened today, but seven years later?"

I shrugged. "Well, I don't mind. I mean, I got it from you for five years, so what's a few minutes more, right?" I joked.

James cracked a small smile at that. "You're bloody amazing, you know that?"

I shrugged modestly, though my heart suddenly skipped a beat. "Well, yeah," I said casually.

"I mean it," James continued insistently. "I would've just punched me in the face and left, but here you are . . ."

"Wait, so you're saying that the next time I yell at you for no reason, you're going to punch me?" I asked.

James laughed. "No. I mean, probably not; I guess I can't promise anything." He crossed his arms over his knees again, and it was only as he dropped my hand to do so that I realized he'd still been holding it.

"Well, I suppose I've been forewarned, now," I said, flexing my fingers slightly and hoping that James didn't notice. We were quiet for a minute, and then I asked in a low voice, "Do you miss him? Your dad, I mean? Well, I'm sure you do, and obviously you don't have to talk about this if y—"

"Yes and no," James said, as though he hadn't heard anything after my first question. "I _do _miss him, but it's more of a general . . . wishing he'd never died in the first place thing than . . . well, of course I wish he'd never died, but . . ." he laughed a little again. "I'm not making any sense, am I?"

I shrugged. "To be honest, not really, no."

James thought for a moment. "I guess it's like . . . I sort of miss the idea of him." He wrinkled his nose. "That's sounds a bit horrible, but . . . even though I was ten when he died—I don't want to say that I've _forgotten _him, because that's not quite right—it's become harder for me to . . ." he trailed off again and was quiet for a couple seconds. Finally, he said, "It sounds weird, but I have trouble picturing what he'd think of me."

I frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Well, for instance, I wonder what he'd think of me being Head Boy." He smiled wryly.

"'Proud' sounds a little cliché, but . . ."

"Right, that's what I mean."

"What about all the pranking and general havoc-causing? Would you tell him about that?"

"Dunno," James answered. "I mean, not the specifics, like the Map—"

"Or that you're breaking the law with the Animagi bit."

"Or that, no. But . . . well, the cloak was his, so I s'pose he'd sort of expect me to use it."

"So you get all the mischief-making genes from him, is that what you're saying?" I said teasingly.

But James just frowned slightly. "I really don't know. I never had a chance to ask him that much about his Hogwarts days."

"Oh. Sorry," I said quickly, blushing.

"Nah, it's probably better this way," James said, smirking again. "Wouldn't want to have to live in his shadow, after all."

I rolled my eyes. "Competing with your dead father . . . only you would think of such a thing."

"Well, I've undoubtedly executed all my 'mischief-making,' as you put it, with exceptional brilliance, so it'd hardly be a fair competition, anyway."

"No, I guess it wouldn't," I agreed dryly. After a pause I added, "All things considered, though, I still feel obligated to tell you that this isn't exactly the healthiest way to deal with . . . everything."

"What isn't?"

"You know," I said, jerking my thumb in the direction of the common room.

"Oh, you mean getting drunk and snogging every girl in the room?" he asked with a grin.

"Yes, that," I muttered.

"Never can resist a chance to lecture me, can you, Flower?"

I looked at him carefully, and his grin slipped slightly at my considering expression.

"You make me nervous when you look at me like that," he said.

I raised an eyebrow. "I thought you never got nervous. Well, except for Quidditch matches."

James frowned at me. "You're never going to let that go, are you?" He sighed when I shook my head. "Never confess a weakness to an enemy," he added regretfully.

I smiled briefly, but couldn't help asking, "You don't really think I'm boring, do you?" I blushed again at the amused look James shot me.

"'Course not, Flower, where would you get such a silly idea like that?"

I snorted. "Right. How ridiculous of me. But . . . well, it's just . . . sometimes anger makes people . . . well, it forces the truth out," I finished in almost a whisper, now determinedly not looking at James, knowing he would be perfectly aware of the event I was alluding to.

I could feel his eyes on me as he answered seriously, "I hardly ever mean anything I say when I'm angry."

"Right . . . er, good," I said, still refusing to meet his eye. Eventually, James looked away again, and I watched out of the corner of my eye as he pulled something out of his pocket. Glancing over, I saw that he was playing with a Snitch, and I smiled a little at the irony, wondering if he'd done it on purpose.

"Why do you always steal the Snitch?" I asked.

James let the small golden ball flutter out of his hand, turning to grin at me as he did so. "Well," he said, grabbing the Snitch again without looking at it, "they're never much use after a match, so I figure they'll be the least missed. Plus, it's hard to fit a Quaffle in your pocket."

I laughed. "Fair enough. But what do you mean, the Snitch is useless after a match?"

"They've got flesh memories," James explained. "A sort of . . . record, of the first person to touch it. In case a catch is ever disputed. So after a game, they're really only used again in practice."

"So they've got to buy a new Snitch for every match?" I asked incredulously.

"Yep."

"Wow. Well, no wonder the sinks in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom have never been fixed."

**

* * *

A/N: Okay, I know, A.J. is still here. And I could actually picture all of you shaking your fists at me and cursing me to the next century at the "No, of course I'm not ready to dump you" bit from Lily. BUT you should just know that I've got major A.J. sabotage planned for the next chapter….and yes, that **_**was **_**supposed to be a Mean Girls reference ;)**


	31. Hold On

**A/N: Thanks to last week's reviewers: hoopsgirl, Lianne, Meeeee, kurofsky (hmm, good song choices—except the Biebs, sorry, I just can't do that ;) But I never considered "Hello" before, though now that you mention it….yes, I can definitely see that), WhereIsMyThumpThump, lilyandjames53 (Gryffindor tower….I'll consider it ;)), ottoismydog (Probably just going to end pretty much with them getting together, which I know some people will hate. But I DID warn you straight off with my very first author's note…..haha), jigsandreels, Elizabeth Lullaby, existence 555, , WobblyJelly, junebugbug96, Pandasrule7, swishflick, SeriouslySiriusBlack (haha, that song was amusing—as was the video clip), SucksRoyalHippogriff, jak23, Lucius Malloy (are you kidding? Of course I read all my reviews! I love them! And all of you!), livibug (hope you had a good V-day as well!), weasleytwins12, ZoneSystems, Miss larien, Abi, seriouslyblak, WaveRider53, EchoNightFall22, Jenn222 (I love chips and salsa!), viva gal, romiofinchel24, starlight564, movinggirl (no immediate plans for stories after this, but who knows?), Bittersweet x (Oh. My. God. You've never seen AVPM? This is a joke, right? You….you have to go watch it. Like, right now. In fact, I will withhold future chapters from you until you do (and after reading this one, trust me, you will NOT want that). Okay, so I can't ACTUALLY do that, but….haha, no, I don't mean to antagonize you. But seriously. It is SO GOOD! On a different note, your plans to off A.J. amuse me.), arelli-black, PoseidonsLittleGirl, IIManzaII, dopey4dobby, Evisawesome (This is going to sound weird, but I've never actually had writer's block. Not significantly, anyway. I mean, there have been times when I've been approaching the end of my detailed plans for stories and I'm like, shit, where am I going with this? As was the case with all the seventh year chapters for this story, for instance. But then I somehow come up with stuff. So, maybe taking a break is good? Or a nap—I only say that because my best ideas seem to come to me when I'm falling asleep ;) Sorry I can't be of more help—good luck!), exwindz, Emotionsonhold, hp lover 101, Tribot, Nour, RavenSoulSister, Cassie Cayne, Elless, theycallherkaush, Marinewife0908, merlincrazy, Marauder'sGirlCuzI'mUp2NoGood, Penflyer, xxjenlovexx, MisszMarauder, Hulio, Ace-reporter, GriffinRose, Dancethroughlife, and xLycheeRAiN!**

**WHEW that paragraph was long!**

**Several of you were curious about the songs on my Marauder's playlist, so I've listed some of them at the end. I have about fifty on there, but a third probably only make sense to me, and another third are kind of on there as a joke (which ALSO probably only makes sense to me), so I've tried to keep it limited to the more obvious ones!**

**I found it interesting that several of you mentioned this week how much you're hoping for an L/J kiss sometime soon, "A.J. be damned" and all that…..and that's all I'm going to say about it ;)**

**Previously, on Resolution: Lily and Mary sit with Remus and Peter at Gryffindor's Quidditch match of the season. They talk about Remus's and Peter's dismal flying skills, and Lily mentions that one of the things on James's "list" is teaching her to fly properly. Drama unfolds at the match after party with Lily forcing Remus to talk to his crush and James being an idiot as usual. Lily and James row about him being an irresponsible git and he accuses Lily of being a boring swot. She quickly learns that the true cause of everything is the fact that it's the anniversary of his father's death. Bonding ensues ;)**

**And now, as promised, on to the sabotage! (among other things, of course)**

**

* * *

Chapter 30:** **Hold On**

By the time James and I returned to the common room after rounds, it was empty (which initially surprised me, until I remembered that the party had started at about two o'clock, and was therefore quite reasonably over by ten). So it wasn't until the next morning at breakfast that I learned the other momentous news from the previous night.

"You're sure it was an actual girl, though?" James asked Sirius for the third time.

"Yep," he said with a grin.

"And neither of them were drunk?" Peter asked skeptically.

"Nope," Sirius replied. "Well, not that I could tell, but I was a little tipsy myself, so . . ."

"That's—I can't even—" James started.

"Me neither, Prongs," Sirius said.

"You're all being pricks," I said, frowning admonishingly at each of them in turn. "Just because you're sore that no girls would consent to snog _you _last night—"

"Only because I was _rudely_ interrupted," James cut in.

"And maybe I was just exercising my free will _not _to snog," Sirius added with dignity.

Ignoring James's comment, I replied to Sirius, "Gone through all the desperate ones, then, have you?"

"I won't pretend to know what you're talking about, Evans."

I rolled my eyes. "Right, okay."

Mary sat down beside me just then. "Morning all," she greeted cheerily.

"Morning," James and Peter chorused.

"Hi, Mary," I said.

"Remus snogged a girl last night," Sirius informed her by way of greeting.

Mary raised her eyebrows. "Bully for him."

Sirius frowned. "Why does no one else consider this to be an earth-shattering occurrence?"

"Maybe because they haven't known him as long as we have," Peter suggested.

"That makes little to no sense, Wormtail," Sirius dismissed.

"Who was the girl?" Mary asked, but Sirius just shrugged unconcernedly. My best friend snorted and continued, "Well, so much for 'earth-shattering'—you didn't even bother to find out her name?"

"It's hardly the important detail," Sirius retorted, as though this should have been obvious. "She was quite fit," he added, almost as an afterthought.

"Which _is _the important detail, of course," I said sardonically.

Sirius grinned at me. "Right you are, Evans."

"Well, Lily knew who it was, didn't you?" James asked before I could tell Sirius off for being so superficial.

"Yes—at least, I think so. Remus told me earlier that night—and by that I mean I cleverly deduced and then forced it out of him—that he fancied Carin . . . something; you know, that Ravenclaw seventh year who—"

"She's in our Care of Magical Creatures class, I think," Peter interrupted thoughtfully.

"Yeah, that's right," I said.

"What I don't understand is how he could have failed to mention her to us," James said, sounding offended.

"Yes, shocking, isn't it?" I said dryly. "Because you'd all clearly have been completely supportive and never teased him about it at all."

"Well, of course we'd have teased him," Sirius insisted. "I mean, we always teased Prongs about—" James coughed pointedly, and Sirius seemed to suddenly decide against his original words—"girls," he finished.

I'd have bet my life he'd been about to say my name, but I decided to be the bigger person and let it go. Well, almost. I couldn't help muttering, "Subtle," just loud enough for James to hear, though he gave no sign that he had.

"So where is Remus, then?" Mary inquired.

"Probably hiding from this lot," I said.

"He can't stay away forever," Sirius said in a sing-song voice, grinning evilly.

**OOOOOOOO**

Which was true, of course—as he had every class with at least one of the other Marauders, Remus really couldn't avoid them much past breakfast. He did do a commendable job of trying, though. He didn't sit with them during our morning Transfiguration lesson, was mysteriously absent at lunch, and when Slughorn asked us to partner up in the afternoon's double potions lesson, Remus practically sprinted up to my table.

"Want to pair up, Lily?" he asked quickly, shooting Mary a pleading look at the same time.

"Sure," I said, taking pity on my friend and trying not to smile at the same time.

Mary obligingly moved to partner Peter, while Sirius and James loudly barraged Remus for being a poor sport.

He shook his head, muttering, "Gits," as he pulled out his potions book. Turning suddenly to me with a suspicious look, he added, "_You're _not going to take the mickey out too, are you?"

"Now, Remus, I can't believe you think I would stoop as low as those two," I said in an affronted tone.

"Good," he sighed in relief.

"Though, might I make one suggestion? They're only going on like this because you're letting it get to you so much."

Remus sighed again. "Yeah, I know. Still, I learned long ago to let them have their fun for a few solid days—it's much less likely to come up again unexpectedly later on, that way. They'll get bored soon enough, and move on."

I considered this for a moment. "That's actually rather brilliant of you," I said. "I always knew you were smartest Marauder."

Remus grinned, and we started compiling the ingredients for today's Forgetfulness Potion.

When we reached the point where it was supposed to simmer for half an hour, I turned to Remus and said, "So, I suppose I should say 'you're welcome.'"

He raised his eyebrows. "Is that so?"

"Of course it is!" I insisted, crossing my arms indignantly. "You wouldn't have even spoken to her last night if it wasn't for me."

"Well, don't we think highly of ourselves?"

"Oh come on, Remus, you were all ready to convince me you hadn't been staring at her for the—"

"I was not _staring _at her. And anyway, I think I deserve full credit for the actual snogging bit."

"Well, that's true," I allowed. "How exactly did that come about anyway?"

Remus reddened slightly and didn't answer.

I sighed. "You're no fun. This is why girls are much better to talk to for this type of stuff. Maybe I should become friends with Carin . . ."

"Absolutely not," Remus said warningly.

"I'm joking, Remus, honestly; do you always have to be so serious?"

He looked at me sharply. "You sound like James."

I wrinkled my nose. "I need to stop doing that. Well, anyway, are you two an 'item' now, then?"

Remus grinned. "Who, James and I?"

I made a frustrated noise in the back of my throat. "_No_—you know who I meant."

This time Remus just shrugged.

I rolled my eyes. "Boys," I grumbled. "Something to think about, maybe?" I suggested pointedly, though I smiled to let him know I was mostly teasing.

"I guess," he replied, not smiling back.

I frowned. "What?"

Remus looked at me for a moment, and I got the distinct impression he was trying to telepathically communicate something to me.

When he glanced away again, I said lightly, "I've always been rubbish at Divination, you know, so you're going to have to spell it out for me, Remus."

"I don't really know what to say," he muttered after a moment. "To Carin, I mean."

"It's rather simply, really," I assured him. "Something along the lines of 'Hey Carin, I really like you, and I think it'd be great if we were more than mates so that I can snog you anytime I like, instead of just when we're both drunk at a party' would probably work."

Remus glared at me. "We were not _drunk_," he protested.

"And I was trying to be _funny_—do I need to make the serious comment again?"

"No," he said. "Sorry. It's just . . . I don't know how to . . . I mean, what is she going to think about—you know."

Finally realizing what he was worried about, I wondered briefly why it'd taken me so long to cotton on. Merlin, I was a crap friend sometimes. "Oh," I said, trying to think of what to say. "Well, not that I have experience with this or anything," I said, and Remus cracked a smile at that, "but you wouldn't . . . you know, have to tell her right away."

Remus looked at me skeptically. "Right, that'd work," he said sarcastically. "And then what, I'd just spring it on her one day, and see if she runs screaming from the room?"

I winced. "First of all," I said firmly. "I don't think she'll run screaming from the room. And maybe that was bad advice, but you can't let this—your . . . er . . . thing, keep you from . . . you know, happiness." I winced again, this time at myself, and chanced a look at Remus, finding him grinning wryly at me. "Oh shut up, you know what I mean," I said impatiently. "You never thought it'd work out with James and the rest, did you?"

"No," Remus admitted, expression serious once more.

"And who knows? She might think it's sexy," I added as an afterthought, eliciting a surprised laugh from Remus.

"All right, you've made me feel better and all that—you don't have to go making things up."

"I'm not!" I insisted. "Seriously, some girls like all that . . . dark, mysterious stuff."

"Okay, sure. Anyway, thanks for the, er . . . advice," he said, still grinning.

"Are you mocking me?" I asked carefully.

"Absolutely not," Remus said, turning to stir our potion again.

**OOOOOOOO**

"I heard Remus finally snogged a girl," A.J. commented with a grin as we descended the stairs to the third floor the following Friday evening. It was—speaking of Remus—a full moon, which meant I was without my fellow Head Boy for rounds. I'd been with A.J. when eight o'clock had rolled around, and therefore had to make excuses for James. For some reason, the first thing I'd come up with was that he really had to finish some homework . . . yes, probably the most unbelievable excuse I could have thought up. But somehow, A.J. didn't question it, though I suspected this had something to do with my immediate follow-up invitation that he keep me company on rounds, which he accepted without hesitation.

"I think he'd resent the use of the word 'finally,'" I replied. "But yes, he has now crossed that particular milestone. Although, who knows? Maybe he's snogged hundreds of girls, only this is the first time anyone else ever found out about it."

A.J. snorted. "Remus doesn't exactly seem like the type to have a secret life."

I glanced at him, fighting a wry smile at the irony, though I must have failed at least partially, because—

"What? Why are you looking at me like that?"

"I'm not looking at you like . . . anything," I said innocently.

A.J. raised an eyebrow. "Right." But, as usual, he didn't pursue it further, and for some reason it annoyed me this time.

"He's more mysterious than you might think," I couldn't stop myself from retorting, and promptly slapped myself mentally. _What the _hell _are you doing, Lily?_

"I suppose you know him better than I do," A.J. consented, looking amused.

I sighed. "You're not one for arguing much, are you?"

My boyfriend frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, you never disagree with me. Or, hardly ever, that is. And you never question anything I say—"

"Because I trust you," A.J. cut in, sounding confused. "And you're always honest, so—"

"How d'you figure that? No, it doesn't matter," I said as A.J. opened his mouth to answer. "But you're wrong—I lie. I lie all the time. Well, okay, not all the time, because I'm horrible at it . . . anyway, the point is, everyone lies, so why would you think I'm some miraculous exception?"

"I . . . um . . . sorry, but do you _want _me to mistrust you all the time? And fight with you more? Because I think I could come up with a few choice words right now!"

We stared at each other for a moment, before I finally came to my senses and realized I was acting completely mad. "Sorry," I said. "I don't know where all that came from . . . I'm being absolutely ridiculous, I know . . . and of course I'm glad you trust me. Sorry," I repeated.

"It's . . . okay," A.J. said, though his voice was still a little clipped. We didn't speak much for nearly an hour, though it wasn't for lack of trying on my part. I just couldn't seem to think of the right words, but I knew I should say _something _after my uncharacteristic outburst. Not that outbursts in general from me were uncharacteristic, but in A.J.'s case . . . well, like I'd told him, I couldn't explain what had come over me. After a bit, I wondered why he didn't just go back to the common room; our tense silence wasn't exactly enjoyable. And nothing was preventing him from leaving, since he wasn't obligated to be on rounds with me.

Nor was he allowed, as we'd passed curfew, but I forgot about that until—

"Mr. McMillan," McGonagall's disapproving voice called out from below us as we passed the marble staircase into the Entrance Hall. She was crossing in the direction of the Great Hall, though what business she had in there at this hour, I had no idea.

"Er, yes Professor?" A.J. asked guiltily.

"What are you doing? Curfew began fifteen minutes ago; you should be in your dormitory."

"Well, I was just . . . Lily asked . . . that is, er—" he trailed off, flushing as our Head of House raised an eyebrow, looking unimpressed by his feeble attempt a an excuse. "I'll just . . . go, then. Sorry." He glanced briefly at me, then hurried away in the direction of Gryffindor Tower.

I braced myself for what I knew was coming next.

"Miss Evans, where is Mr. Potter?"

"He's . . . sick," I said lamely.

"Indeed?" McGonagall inquired, sounding unconvinced. "Well then, I assume that if I were to—"

But James chose that unfortunate moment to come bursting through the oak front doors. He skidded to a halt upon spotting McGonagall, and his expression was so obviously that of one 'caught in the act' that I nearly laughed.

McGonagall stared at him for a moment before adding dryly to me, "He looks perfectly healthy to me, Miss Evans."

"Er . . . yes," I said, shooting James an apologetic look over her shoulder. He just shrugged, grinning, and it was this expression that McGonagall caught when she glanced at him again.

"I'm glad you find this amusing, Mr. Potter," she said. "I'll see you in detention tomorrow afternoon, and you had better make sure this never happens again. And I don't want to catch you lying for him anymore, Miss Evans," she added, and with that, she continued along her intended path, disappearing into the Great Hall.

I sighed, descending the stairs at last to meet James at the bottom. "Sorry," I said. "I just . . . didn't really expect to have to come up with an excuse for you to the teachers, and then the first thing I blurted out was that you were sick, but that probably wouldn't have worked anyway, as I'm fairly sure McGonagall would've marched right up to the hospital wing to check if you were there—"

"It's all right, Lily," James interrupted, still grinning in amusement. "I don't mind, really—it's just detention."

"Yes, but . . . I mean, it's unfair that she'll think you skived off just because you were doing something stupid—well, I mean, I guess you were, to a point, but—hang on, aren't you back rather . . . early? And where are Sirius and Peter?"

"We forgot the Map in the knot of the tree where we normally hide it, and only remembered after we'd nearly reached the castle, so I offered to go back for it while they went on—unfortunately, with the cloak. As to being back early—and why we were distracted enough to forget the Map in the first place, actually—it wasn't a good night."

I frowned. "What do you mean?"

James sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Well, sometimes Remus is more . . . wolf-ish than others, and harder to control. We haven't worked out what causes it, but—" He shook his head. "It's just better not to risk it."

I nodded and was about to apologize again for the McGonagall incident when James added, "Well, since the jig's already up—" he jerked a thumb towards the Great Hall—"fancy a walk?" Without waiting for me to answer, he moved to the spare cloaks closet and tossed me one.

"Outside?" I asked as James moved towards the front doors again.

"'Course. I haven't quite gotten my fix yet," he said with a wink.

"Er, all right, then—as long as it's, you know, safe."

"You think I would have suggested it if it wasn't?"

And so we started off across the grounds, which were alternately lit by the full moon and thrown into complete darkness by the shifting clouds overhead. We were in the middle of an unseasonably warm snap, and I smiled in satisfaction at the lack of snow on the grass under my feet. However, as James and I simultaneously lit our wand tips, I couldn't help wondering if this was a stupid idea. I mean, if James thought it was safe, then it probably was, but still . . . I would never forget what had happened the last time I'd wandered around during a full moon.

Thinking about Remus and the other Marauders' monthly escapades, the question was out of my mouth before I realized it would make absolutely no sense to James. "Does it hurt?"

Predictably, he shot me a confused look. "Does what hurt?"

"Sorry—turning into . . . I mean, when you do the whole Animagus . . . thing?"

"No—well, I suppose it almost hurts, but only because you think it should . . . if that makes sense."

"Not particularly."

James grinned. "Well, since me as a stag is much bigger than me as a person, it sort of feels like my muscles and bones are being stretched and pulled—it's an incredibly strange sensation, actually, especially the first time. Wormtail says it feels like someone's trying to force him inside a matchbox," he added, almost as an afterthought.

I made a face. "You're right, that does sound painful."

"But it's not," James replied easily.

"You know, it's something of a miracle that you lot have never been caught coming back into the castle after a full moon before."

"I think possession of an invisibility cloak makes it somewhat less miraculous," James pointed out.

"Yes, but the cloak doesn't block out sound. And it can hardly hide all three of you effectively."

"True," James allowed. "Still, guess we've broken our record now, eh?"

Grimacing, I said, "Sorry." James just grinned again, and in the silence that followed, I found myself remembering my conversation with A.J. that night. "If it helps, I think I may be going insane."

With a crooked smile, James said, "I'm afraid you passed that point a long time ago, Flower."

Beyond shoving him lightly, I ignored his comment. "I just started a fight with A.J. about how we never fight."

James didn't respond at first, and when I looked at him it seemed like he was avoiding my gaze on purpose. It was too dark to make out his expression, but I thought he might have been frowning. Whether in frustration, confusion, or concentration, I couldn't say. Though none of those reactions would really make sense at the moment, anyway.

"Good thing we'll never have to worry about that," he commented finally, and when I glanced over at him again, I was surprised by the intensity in his hazel eyes.

As though by silent agreement, we both stopped walking. Apparently, my voice had forgotten how to function, because it was a moment before I could croak out a response. "Right," I managed eventually, tearing my gaze away from James and starting forward again. As I did, I discovered that our feet were taking us toward the Quidditch pitch. Or at least, it seemed to me like an accident. But when James stopped suddenly beside the stands and turned to me with a mischievous grin, I started to think he might have been leading us here all along.

"Ready?" he asked, any hint that something had passed between us a moment before gone.

I raised my eyebrows. "For what?"

But instead of answering, James moved closer to the stands, squinted along them and, apparently finding whatever he was looking for, tapped them with his wand. Immediately, golden orbs of light shot up at set intervals to hover over the pitch, flooding it with light.

"Who knew?" I said quietly.

"Some matches have been known to run past dark," James explained. "Now just wait there—I'll be right back."

"Why do I get the feeling I should run away instead?" I muttered, and James's laugh echoed out of the changing rooms as he disappeared into them.

He returned shortly carrying two broomsticks, tossing one to me as he neared. Not expecting this, I watched it stupidly as it thumped to the ground. James glanced down at the broom, then up at me, a smirk twisting his lips. "You were supposed to catch that," he informed me.

Glaring at him, I stooped to pick up the broom, suddenly realized James's motivation for bringing us out here. "I'm not doing it," I said abruptly.

"Catching the broom? Well, yes, I realized that."

My glare deepened. "_No_—flying. I'm not doing it," I repeated.

"Sure you are."

"Nope."

"Yes."

"Absolutely not, Potter."

"Absolutely yes, _Evans_." We stared at each other for a moment, James with a challenging glint in his eyes, me with a no-way-in-hell look in mine. "Come on, I've even given you Sirius's broom, so you won't have to use one of the disastrously terrible school ones," James wheedled.

"He'll kill you if he finds out."

"Only if you wreck it."

"Which is a distinct possibility."

James frowned at me. "I'm not moving until you get on that broom."

I sighed, resigned to my fate. "Fine." I swung one leg over the broom and gripped it tightly in my hands, nervousness making my stomach flutter uncomfortably.

"Excellent," James said, grinning again. "Now, you'll want to move your hands up on the broom a bit and spread them apart more." He walked over and arranged my hands in the correct position. "And you don't have to kick off that hard from the ground—the broom's already ready to go." I would have thought this a ridiculous thing to say if I couldn't feel the way the previously lifeless piece of wood was now humming under my hands, almost as if it _did _have a mind of its own . . .

"It's not going to . . . realize I'm not Sirius and throw me off, is it?" I asked before I could help it.

James rolled his eyes. "It's not a horse, Lily."

"That's not what I asked," I muttered, but James ignored me.

"Anyway, after you're up, it's all pretty simple, really. Just lean forward to go faster, pull back to slow down, and lean left or right to turn."

I sighed again. "I really hate you, you know."

"You always were a bad liar, Evans," James replied with a wink, before mounting his own broom.

Sighing in frustration, I tried again. "If I die doing this, I'll kill you," I said threateningly.

"Now, Lily, do you really think I'd let any harm befall you?"

"That depends," I grumbled.

"You're just stalling, Evans."

"All right, fine. Here I go." And before I could chicken out, I took a deep breath, leaned forward slightly, and tapped the ground with my feet.

The broom shot upward faster than I was expecting, and I leaned back instinctively. To my surprise, I slowed to a halt instantly, the broom moving up and down slightly as it hovered in midair. James had soon flown up beside me, and he was grinning in delight—though I wasn't sure if it was happiness at my successful take-off or simply because he loved flying.

"See, that wasn't so bad, right?" he asked.

And it really wasn't. We flew slowly around the pitch once, James keeping up a constant stream of suggestions, which, far from being patronizing as I might have expected, were incredibly helpful. By my second turn past the golden hoops near the changing rooms, I felt like I was actually starting to get the hang of it, and I discovered that it was actually rather fun.

I was a little nervous about getting _back _on the ground, but that went off without a hitch too. Well, I didn't fall over, at least. Climbing off the broom, I smiled triumphantly at James, who had landed beside me.

Laughing at my expression, he said, "Aren't you glad I forced you to do that?"

_Oh damn, it was his idea, wasn't it?_ "Yes," I said reluctantly. "But now that you've fulfilled all three of your self-assigned obligations, whatever are you going to do with yourself?" I teased.

"Take you on a real broom ride, for starters," James said, and it was only then that I noticed he hadn't fully dismounted yet.

"Excuse me, but that was a 'real' broom ride," I said huffily.

"Oh no, I'm not undermining your, er . . . skills, Flower," James said with a smirk. "But that," he waved his hand vaguely to indicate the sky above us, "was not how I fly. Now stop wasting time and get on!" He tilted his head to indicate the broom behind him.

Knowing that he would (again) refuse to move until I complied with his request, I abandoned my—or rather, Sirius's—broom and swung up behind James. "So _this _is where you get me killed," I muttered, wrapping my arms around his waist.

"Au contraire, Flower—I am a bloody good flier."

Before I could reply, James kicked off from the ground and we zoomed into the air. Pulling us to a stop fifty feet above the ground, James glanced over his shoulder at me. "You'll want to hold on tighter than that."

"Why? What are y—" I started apprehensively, but I cut myself off with a shriek of surprise as James suddenly leaned almost flat against the broom, causing us to shoot forward towards the opposite end of the pitch. Just before reaching the golden hoops, James pulled the broom up so that we rose even higher, circling over the stands.

"Ready for some loop-the-loops?" James called back to me.

"No!" I yelled, but James paid me no heed, and the sky was soon swinging dizzily above me, the ground flashing past in a whirl of muted color as we looped over and over in midair. I clenched my legs tightly beneath the broom and gripped the front of James's robes in my fists, terrified that I was going to fall off any minute.

I was incredibly grateful when we came to a stop again, and I sucked in several deep breaths, slowly unlocking my limbs from their death grip around James and the broom.

"If you thought that was fun—" James began.

"I didn't," I interjected through clenched teeth.

"—this next bit is going to be brilliant," James finished, ignoring me again. "I love dives."

"Di—oh no. No, no, no, James Potter, don't you _dare_—"

He dared. My stomach dropped as we suddenly hurtled towards the ground, the rush of air forcing my scream back into my mouth. I buried my face in James's back, but he shouted over his shoulder to me, words nearly lost in the wind streaming past us, "No, you have to look!"

Forcing myself to peak over his shoulder, my stomach lurched again as I realized how close we were to the ground. And it continued to approach at an alarming rate. "James . . ." I started warningly. But he didn't slow down. "James . . . JAMES . . . POTTER!"

I hid my face again, bracing for the inevitable crash, but it never came. When I dared to look, I found that we were skimming over the grass, slowing rapidly and finally stopping near where we'd started.

For a minute I could only sit there, breathing quickly and trembling all over. I could feel that James's breathing had quickened as well, but when I finally managed to clamber off of his broom, I knew the similarities stopped there. While I was certain my expression was frozen in utter terror, he was grinning hugely, hazel eyes alight with excitement.

"You . . . I'm . . . going to . . . you . . ." I stuttered, trying to glare at him, but my eyes refused to narrow from their current popping-out-with-fear state.

"You're shaking like a leaf, Evans," James observed.

"You think?" I retorted flatly.

James laughed, and I turned angrily to walk back up to the castle. Or at least, I tried to. Apparently, my limbs hadn't quite caught up to the fact that I was safely on the ground again, and I nearly tripped after taking one step. But James was suddenly there, grabbing my arm to prevent me falling over.

"Maybe you want to take a second?" he suggested, sounding highly amused.

"I really, _really _hate you, James Potter," I fumed, though the effect was somewhat ruined by the way my teeth were chattering.

"I know," he replied pleasantly. "But that's—"

His words were cut off by a sudden clap of thunder, and the clouds that had been floating above us all night abruptly let loose with a torrential downpour. James and I sprinted for the changing rooms, James grabbing Sirius's discarded broom as he passed. We burst through the doors, but the shelter was hardly helpful at that point. Both of us were soaked, hair plastered to our heads and cloaks dripping heavily onto the floor. James shut the brooms in a closet, waving his wand to lock it.

"Well?" he asked as he turned to me, shoving his sodden hair out of his eyes.

"Well what?"

"D'you want to wait it out in here, or throw all caution to the wind and make a run for the castle?"

I smiled at his dramatic phrasing. "Either way, we're technically supposed to be done with rounds, so I guess anything we do right now is a risky move."

"Don't you just love that?"

"Not really," I answered, but I was still smiling.

James grinned and opened the door to the grounds. "After you, Flower."

I took one look at the pounding rain, steeled myself, and sprinted out the door. I heard it slam behind me, and James's squelching footsteps joined mine as the two of us ran full out for the dry and warmth of Hogwarts.

"Sorry for scaring you with the diving and such," James shouted to me over the rain.

"It's all right," I called back. "I'll make sure your death is quick and painless."

James's laughter was nearly swallowed by another burst of thunder.

We stumbled up the stone steps and into the Entrance Hall, both slipping a little on the flagstone floor. After he'd caught his breath, James straightened and said, "Well, that was fun. We should do it again some—" He stopped abruptly, eyes widening at something behind me.

Whirling around, I saw immediately what had caught his attention. Mrs. Norris was approaching us silently, lamp-like eyes fixed unwaveringly upon me.

"Shit," I muttered, turning back to James.

"Looks like we're off again," he said, grinning. And with that, he grabbed my hand and yanked me towards the marble staircase. As we whipped around a corner at the top of the stairs, I heard Filch's voice ring out below us, "Stop! STOP!"

Which only made us run faster, of course. I let James take the lead, pulling me through one tapestry, up a flight of stairs, and down a corridor, finally tugging me abruptly behind another tapestry, where we were forced to a stop by the solid wall of stone behind it.

"Are you s-sure we r-r-ran far enough?" I asked, my teeth now chattering from cold.

"Nope," James answered unconcernedly. "But he'll expect us to try and make it all the way back to Gryffindor Tower, so this actually works in our favor. Trust me," he added when I turned in the cramped space to raise an eyebrow at him.

Shaking my head, I turned back to the dusty tapestry in front of me, peeking at the thin line of corridor visible around it.

"You're teeth are really loud," James whispered to me after a moment.

I giggled. "Sor—" I started, but James clapped a hand over my mouth, and I realized why a moment later. Footsteps were approaching down the corridor, and I saw a black streak rush past just before Filch appeared briefly, trotting straight past our hiding spot and muttering to his cat, "We'll catch them soon, my pet."

When the sound of footsteps faded, I breathed a sigh of relief and James removed his hand from my mouth. "We really need to start setting a better example, as Head Boy and Girl," I joked, turning around. But anything else I might have said caught in my throat as I found James looking at me with the same intensity he had out on the grounds. I was suddenly aware that he was still holding my hand. My eyes flicked to his lips, which seemed unexpectedly close to mine. As I met his gaze again, I realized two things simultaneously:

James was going to kiss me. And I was going to let him.

**

* * *

A/N: Ahahaha, I'm so evil with the cliffhangers! Okay, but can you deny that that was fantastic sabotage? Yes, I rather thought so. Anyway, now you see the motivation for posting a day early….yes, I'm not above bribing you all not to hate me. Wait, who are we kidding? You're going to hate me for that ending no matter what, right? Oh, and I couldn't resist throwing in a little Remus/OC action, which wasn't really planned at all until I started writing this chapter, believe it or not. But you can't deny the man deserves some lovin' ;)**

**As well as the resolution (haha, resolution—get it? okay, that was lame…and have I already made that joke? I feel like I might have….which would be even lamer….) of the cliffhanger, you can also look forward next chapter to some (hopefully) exceptionally great Lily/Sirius bonding, as well as the triumphant return of drunk!Lily.**

**And, as promised, a sampling of my Marauder's playlist:**

**Just the Girl by The Click Five (James and Lily—several of you mentioned this one in your reviews, actually, and I have to say I agree!)**

**Up and Up by Relient K (James**

**Be My Escape, also Relient K (this is my Sirius in OotP song….really, it's uncanny how well it fits, IMO)**

**We Are Golden by Mika (Marauders in general, though the first verse kind of reminds me of James and the last of Lupin)**

**With A Little Help From My Friends by The Beatles (Marauders)**

**King Of Anything by Sara Bareilles (totally a Lily to James song)**

**Out There by Sister Hazel (Lupin(/Tonks))**

**Only The Good Die Young by Billy Joel (James to Lily)**

**As Lovers Go by Dashboard Confessional (James to Lily)**

**Ok, It's All Right With Me by Eric Hutchinson (James and/or Sirius)**


	32. Wanted It To Be

**A/N: To all my amazing reviewers—you're wonderful. Thanks to: HerHeadsInTheSky ('bout 3 or 4 chappies left), I'm A Cuckoo, Meeeee (wow, you reviewed THREE times this week—kudos), Pandasrule7, Zone Systems, iKKxLee52, marinewife08, blissedoutvixen, YAJJ, Elless, Menolly Harper, freefallingx19, emotionsonhold, Silver Scorpion, AliLuvsAlli-Sirius, j.k butler, Jenn222, Jmh, isigirl, lilyandjames53, jak23, kariTwilove, junebugbug96 (it was Jesus Navas), SeriouslySiriusBlack, Starr Cullen, starlight564, maximum destined potter, Swallow in the Cloud, existence555, Spicysweetchica101, RandomAsRainbows, .x, Tribot (haha, how random! And how do you know I don't know you…..**wiggles eyebrows**), marauders2116, Elizabeth Lullaby, Lucius Malloy, Westhaven18, Kimberly Hart D.B.W., viva gal, DarlingILoveYou, Miss larien, Cassie Cayne, PoseidonsLittleGirl, SucksRoyalHippogriff, Abi, nathymoonybr, silk399, WobblyJelly, xxjenlovexx, MissArtemisFowl, Marauder'sGirlCuzI'mUp2NoGood, Jill-Potter9, RavenSoulSister, seriouslyblak, GriffinRose, movinggirl, Ace-reporter, WhatTheDevilIsGoingOnHere (you win for my favorite review this week—I LOLed so much when I read it!), Nour, vampire5596, Tabbycat270, JanistheGiant, Evisawesome, theycallherkaush (even though I have a general preemptive apology below, an extra one to you….), ramitaarora, arelli-black, IIManzaII, merlincrazy, Theherbflower, hp loverr 101, MisszMarauder, inluvwitheverythingpotters, Bittersweet x (haha, no prob—I love long reviews! And A.J.'s full name is Angus Jennings McMillan, poor bloke), and xLycheeRAiN (I think you've been the first to review for like three weeks now…congrats!)**

**You know you've done an evil cliffhanger when your reviewers leave you death threats…. ;)**

**I would also like to take this moment to apologize in advance to many of you. I'm really, truly, very sorry….**

**

* * *

(as if you need reminding)**

_When the sound of footsteps faded, I breathed a sigh of relief and James removed his hand from my mouth. "We really need to start setting a better example, as Head Boy and Girl," I joked, turning around. But anything else I might have said caught in my throat as I found James looking at me with the same intensity he had out on the grounds. I was suddenly aware that he was still holding my hand. My eyes flicked to his lips, which seemed unexpectedly close to mine. As I met his gaze again, I realized two things simultaneously:_

_ James was going to kiss me. And I was going to let him._

**

* * *

Chapter 31: Wanted It To Be**

James's face moved closer to mine, and I closed my eyes when it became too difficult to keep him in focus. I tried to remember our last kiss, wondering if his lips would feel familiar . . .

But I was left wondering, because James suddenly dropped my hand and moved away. My eyes flew open to find him already pushing through the tapestry. I followed hastily after him, my mind reeling from the shock of what had just happened. Or rather, almost happened. I couldn't think properly; my mind was full of the image of James leaning towards me, that unidentifiable look in his eyes. A look that had said he wanted to kiss me, or so I thought. But then why had he pulled away?

Still too mentally disoriented to actually articulate this question, I continued to trail James back to Gryffindor Tower. He didn't once look at me, and his quick strides almost suggested that he was trying to get away from me. But I kept pace with him through the Fat Lady's portrait, slowing as we reached the split to our respective dormitories. The few people still in the common room had looked up at our entrance, but all quickly returned to their homework or quiet conversations. At last, James turned to face me, but the look on his face, which could only be described as angry, froze my voice again. A second later, he turned and disappeared up the boys' staircase.

I stood staring after him, trying to make sense of his expression. Was he angry at me? I didn't see how that could be possible. So he was angry with himself? Because . . . _because he hadn't wanted to kiss me,_ the logical part of my mind answered. And that hurt more than I could ever have imagined.

Whirling around, I ran up the stairs to my own dormitory, immensely glad, for the first time that year, that I no longer shared it with my year-mates. I didn't want to have to explain anything to them right now, not even to Mary.

Throwing my sodden cloak on the floor as I shut the door behind me, I stripped off the rest of my wet things in the bathroom and stepped into a hot shower, hoping the rhythmic pounding of the water would help calm my mind.

But my thoughts were too scattered to straighten out, and as the minutes passed, I kept returning to the same point that evening—with James about to kiss me, and my subsequent realization that I'd been wanting him to for a long time. How it was possible that I'd been so blind for so long, I had no idea.

It wasn't anger or disappointment I'd felt when I'd caught James kissing other girls this year, it was jealousy. I'd only mistaken the two because I was so used to being angry with James. It was a familiar and safe emotion where he was concerned, because even though we were friends, we were always going to argue. It was, strange as it may seem, simply part of how we related to each other.

_"You're not one for arguing much, are you?"_

Suddenly, the words I'd spoken to A.J. earlier that night came back to me, and a new wave of panic broke over me. What was I going to do about A.J.? I'd almost kissed someone else tonight, and not once had my boyfriend entered my mind. Shoving that question away for now—_one thing at a time, Lily_—I focused on my original train of thought.

_"Do you want me to mistrust you all the time? And fight with you more?"_

Did I? No, of course not—who would want that? And yet . . .

_"Good thing we'll never have to worry about that."_

There was something about James's blunt honesty, and the way he always called me out when I was lying, and how he didn't just let things slide . . . it was something A.J. would never do. _So, I fancy James because he fights with me? How masochistic is that?_

Setting my own twisted and nonsensical feelings aside for the moment, I turned to the more pressing and potentially painful issue of James's. There were moments from the past few months that suggested he might feel something more than friendship towards me—the most prominent being his irritation with A.J. and the roses on our anniversary—but they were significantly overshadowed by all the evidence that suggested otherwise.

_"I already knew you'd rather tie a large rock to your foot and jump into the ocean than kiss me."_

_ "I . . . er, sort of let her believe that, because I didn't want her to know it was actually because I was just sick of dating her and welcomed the chance to end it"_

_ "I think a bloke deserves to know if his girlfriend's in love with him."_

_"I doubt you two will break up over it—he really likes you, after all . . . Why do you think I introduced you in the first place?"_

And that was the most devastating and inarguable blow—he was the one who'd set me up with A.J. No one in his right mind, and especially not _James_, would consent to set up the girl he fancied with another bloke. Still, other memories forced their way forward.

_"You're not a coward, Lily."_

_ "Because I'm in Gryffindor, right?"_

_ "No, because you're you."_

_ "You're bloody amazing, you know that?"_

_ "Shh—it'll be our l'il secret."_

Maybe James was a masochist, too.

**OOOOOOOO**

By the time I stepped out of the shower, my hands so wrinkled from the prolonged exposure to water that they looked like an old woman's, I'd resolved to talk to James. Right then. Because I wouldn't be able to sleep until I had answers. Well, I might not be able to sleep once I _did _have them, either, but at least I'd know. Once and for all, I'd know where James and I stood.

I didn't care that it was nearly midnight, and that James might be asleep. I'd pound on his door until I woke him up if I had to. The thing that did bother me was that I had absolutely no idea what I was going to say to him. 'Hey, James, just thought you should know that I wish you hadn't pulled back from kissing me earlier—in fact, I'd really like to snog you within an inch of your life.' Yeah, that would go well. _Maybe I shouldn't say anything, but just jump him the minute he opens the door and see how he reacts._

By this time I'd climbed the first set of boys' staircases, passing the hallways to the first and second year dormitories. _And what if he's still angry? I suppose it could be a starting point, to ask him to explain that. Knowing James, anger might just make everything else come out as well, and then I wouldn't have to do anything but stand there and listen. _I snorted as I reached the last set of stairs up to the Head dormitory; I had a feeling it wouldn't be that easy.

Before I could lose my determination, I marched straight up to James's door and knocked firmly three times. After waiting a minute with no answer, I raised my fist to knock again.

"Lily?" a confused and familiar voice called out from below me. I whipped around, my fist still raised stupidly in the air.

"A.J.," I said in surprise, quickly dropping my hand and trying to force back the explosion of emotions (mostly in the anxiety, guilt, and I'm-a-horrible-person realm) elicited by the sight of him. "Er . . ." I started, no ready-made and plausible excuse coming to mind to explain my presence outside James's room in the middle of the night.

"Lily?" came a different voice from behind me, causing an entirely new wave of emotions to roll through me. _I think I'm going to have a heart attack before this night is over_, I thought resentfully, turning to find James pulling on a shirt over shower-wet hair. _Well, that explains why he took so long to answer the door—he had to . . . put on clothes. _Abruptly turning bright red, I shifted my gaze back to A.J.

"What are you doing here so late?" he asked, though he merely sounded curious, not accusatory.

"I . . . um, well," I began, "I was—" _about to snog the pants off James_. I mean, what was I doing? I shouldn't be talking to James right now! How could I have even considered trying to figure things out with him before I'd said anything to A.J.? Merlin, I really was an awful girlfriend. "I was just coming to get the Transfiguration book James borrowed from me." I heard James snort quietly and tried not to wince. "You know, since you and I are going to Hogsmeade tomorrow, I just thought I should get it before I . . . forgot." _Well, that's probably the most pathetic lie I've ever told. Or it ranks right up there, at least._

I jumped as a door slammed behind me, glancing over my shoulder to see that James had disappeared back into his room. And it was clear that he was angry. Again. But this time I was fairly certain it was directed at me.

Looking back at A.J., I could tell he didn't believe the story I'd just fed him about my Transfiguration book—James's reaction didn't exactly help, either. But he didn't say anything at first, just looked at me, an oddly sad expression in his eyes. "Well, if that's—" he started finally, but was interrupted by James's door opening again.

Wordlessly, and with a completely blank expression, James held out his Transfiguration book to me. A sudden knot forming in the pit of my stomach, I took it with a quiet, ashamed murmur of thanks. James nodded mutely, and, still not betraying a hint of what he might be thinking at that moment, shut himself in his room again. I retraced my steps down the stairs, stopping beside A.J.

Seeming to decide against whatever he'd been about to say, he said, "So, I'll meet you at eleven tomorrow morning, then?"

"Yes, eleven," I agreed quickly, and he too moved to return to his dormitory.

When I got back to my room, I set James's book on my desk, hung the still soaking borrowed cloak in the bathroom to dry, and fell onto my bed, my mind finally exhausted beyond thought.

**OOOOOOOO**

I somehow managed to sleep late the next morning, but when I woke up, it was with the absolute knowledge that today was going to be awful. Dragging myself out of bed, I threw on the nearest clean clothes I could find and hurried down to the Great Hall. I didn't run into James, for which I was supremely relieved, but I didn't see Mary either, and I was in desperate need of her advice.

However, as a person who could keep me calm when I felt I was about to fly apart at the seams, Remus was a close second. So, when I saw him sitting alone at the Gryffindor table, I immediately moved to sit across from him.

"Morning, Lily," he greeted me with a smile, looking a little tired, but otherwise relatively normal considering last night had been a full moon.

"Remus, I am a bloody coward," I announced.

He raised his eyebrows slightly. "That so? Sorry to hear it."

I smiled despite myself. "Right—I just had to tell someone that. Anyway, how're you?"

"Better than you, I'm assuming," he replied, now frowning a bit. "Anything else you, er, 'need to tell someone'? Because I feel like I owe you."

It was my turn to frown. "Er, for what?"

"I'm meeting Carin in Hogsmeade today," he said with an embarrassed sort of grin.

Momentarily thrown, it was a minute before his words penetrated my currently self-absorbed brain. When they did, I grinned back at him. "Seriously? Merlin, Remus, you have no idea how happy that makes me. Especially today."

"Yes, I'm beginning to get that . . . er, are you sure you're okay?"

"Oh, I'm most definitely not okay, but . . . well, it'll be . . . fine. You know, probably. I mean, it might take a few centuries, but I'll be back to normal eventually."

Remus didn't seem to know whether to laugh or look concerned.

Before he could do either, I added quickly, "So, where are your usual partners in crime? Or are you avoiding them because they're still taking the mickey out of you about the Carin situation?"

"Sirius considers it a crime to get up before ten on a Saturday, Peter is holed up in the library today because he's put off his Charms homework for about a week, and James isn't meeting Audrey until noon. Though they are still taking the mickey out, as well—but I suppose it's their right, as mates."

I barely heard his last sentence, caught up as I was with the one preceding it. "James is . . . what?" I asked weakly.

"He's going to Hogsmeade with Audrey . . . well, I can't remember her last name, but she's in Ravenclaw, and—"

"No, I know who she is," I said, a little harshly. Remus raised his eyebrows, and seemed about to ask me something, but was interrupted by A.J.'s arrival.

"Morning, you two," he said, leaning in to kiss me—our fight last night and awkward meeting in the dormitory later evidently forgotten.

_Merlin, the guilt is going to kill me today, _I thought as I tried to smile normally at him in greeting.

I somehow survived the small talk that followed, even though it was not distracting enough _at all _for my current mental state. But then A.J. and I encountered James on our way out of the Hall, and I nearly lost it again. At least he no longer looked angry—though I could only handle meeting his eyes for about two seconds, so I couldn't be completely sure.

"Hey Potter," A.J. greeted him, and I might have been imagining it, but he sounded almost defensive.

"Rookie," James replied. "Lily," he added quietly, and I forced myself to look at him again, though I could only nod back (like a complete dolt) because I didn't trust my voice—I wasn't sure whether I would start screaming at him or sobbing if I opened my mouth, and I really didn't want to do either. Instead, I turned away before James could say anything else and let A.J. lead me to the oak front doors.

**OOOOOOOO**

If someone asked me to repeat A.J.'s and my conversation during our walk to the village, I wouldn't have been able to reproduce even one word. Honestly, it was a wonder I was able to keep up my side of it. We walked aimlessly around the village for a while, and by the time we stopped in the Three Broomsticks for a butterbeer, I couldn't hold it in any longer.

"A.J., I have to talk to you," I said, my voice trembling slightly.

He raised an eyebrow. "What do you think you've been doing for the past hour?"

_Of course he'd pick now to be uncharacteristically unperceptive. _Taking a deep breath, I continued, "No, I mean I have to tell you something . . . something serious."

Looking appropriately curious and a little concerned now, A.J. said, "What is it?"

I glanced up at the happily chattering crowd around us, suddenly envious of everyone who was having a perfectly normal Saturday, free from emotional trauma. Well, all right, 'emotional trauma' was a bit dramatic but—

"Lily?" A.J. prompted, and I realized I'd been lost in my thoughts and hadn't answered his original question.

"Sorry," I said, shaking myself slightly. "Er, but we might . . . want to go somewhere else?"

"Why?" A.J. asked, shrugging. "No one's paying attention to us—they won't overhear whatever it is you've got to say."

_The change of location isn't really for my sake, _I thought irritably, _but . . . well, if he wants to do it here, so be it._ I knew this wasn't entirely fair, since A.J. had no idea what was coming, but I couldn't stand keeping it from him anymore. "James almost kissed me last night," I blurted out, surprising myself with how blunt I sounded.

A.J. just stared at me for a moment. Then, his expression hardening as he began to rise from his seat, he said, "I'll kill him."

"No, wait!" I said hurriedly, grabbing his sleeve in an attempt to stay his unexpected hostility. Slowly, A.J. responded to the pressure and sank back down, still with an angry look in his eyes. "It's not—that is, James was—" I stopped, knowing that what I was about to say would break his heart. And for a moment, I didn't think I could do that to him. But I had to say it. "He was the one who pulled away first."

A.J. seemed shocked into silence once more, the anger in his eyes quickly turning to puzzlement. Not wanting to see the look in them when he figured it out, I looked down at my hands, which were clenched tightly on top of the wooden table.

"Oh," A.J. finally said quietly. "So you—that's why you were . . . you're breaking up with me." It wasn't a question.

"I'm sorry," I whispered. "I know it's completely unfair, and awful, and _terrible _timing, and I—"

"Please, don't apologize," A.J. said, his voice hard again.

Meeting his eyes at last, I felt another stab of guilt at the pain there. "Sorry," I repeated without thinking, then winced. "I mean—I just . . . I don't know what to say, A.J., and I know you'll probably hate me forever—"

"I don't hate you," he cut in. "I could never hate you, Lily."

_God, he really is too nice_. "Well, that makes one of us," I muttered. "Look, if you want to yell and scream at me, I'll understand—we can go outside, or you could do it here, cause a big, dramatic scene and completely embarrass me, because Merlin knows I deserve it . . . or, you know, you could just send me a Howler," I finished.

At that, A.J. smiled, though it didn't quite banish the sadness in his eyes. "I'll keep that in mind." We were quiet for a few minutes, and then A.J. added awkwardly, "I, er, sort of promised a mate I'd bring him back some Honeydukes chocolate, since he's swamped with homework today, so . . . I should probably go and, er, do that."

"Right," I said, too quickly. "Yeah, good, that's—don't let me keep you," I babbled, grimacing at my run-away mouth.

A.J. smiled wryly. "I wasn't under the impression that you were," he said, and then he was walking towards the door, leaving me cursing my idiocy.

"Well, I probably couldn't have done a _worse _job of that," I said softly to myself, and without warning, tears sprang to my eyes and began to fall down my cheeks. I let them come, ducking my head slightly but otherwise making no attempts to hide the fact that I was openly crying in a very public place. I was really beyond caring at that point. It must not have been too obvious, however, because Sirius didn't notice until he was practically sitting in my booth.

"Evans!" I heard him call from somewhere in the middle of the pub, but I didn't look up. "What are you doing here all by your lonesome? I thought y—Lily, are you all right?" he asked, a worried note leaping into his teasing tone as he slid onto the bench across from me.

"Do I look all right?" I asked, trying to sound cross, but my voice was shaking too much to convey it.

"No," Sirius answered. "Although, tears do make the green in your eyes rather striking, and I think that with a little work, you could really pull off the red nose look."

I let out a watery laugh, trying to stem the flow of tears with my sleeve. Sirius offered me a napkin from the stack on the table, and I gathered myself together enough to shoot him an affronted look. "What, no handkerchief for your damsel in distress?"

Sirius grinned. "Well, first of all, you're not _my _damsel in distress, love, and second, I'd look a right prat carrying a handkerchief around."

"All right, fair enough," I said, blowing my nose loudly into the napkin.

"Attractive," Sirius observed, raising his eyebrows.

"Oh, shut it," I said, lobbing the napkin at his head, though he managed to dodge it. "You're supposed to be listening to my tales of woe and offering your sympathetic support, not mocking me."

"Tales of woe, is it? Bloody hell, that sounds serious."

I glared at him. "If you're going to be horrible, you can bloody well just le—"

"Okay, okay, I'll be good. I promise. So, what woes have befallen you, my lady?"

I fought a smile without success. But as I spoke, it quickly faded again. "A.J. and I broke up."

No longer grinning, Sirius jerked his head at the door to the Three Broomsticks. "Want me to find him and give him a swift kick up the—"

"No," I interrupted hastily. "I broke up with him."

"I see," Sirius said, frowning. "Er, why? Not that I don't support it, or anything; all relationships are rubbish anyway—"

"Sirius," I said warningly.

"Right, I'm being insensitive again, sorry. So, what happened?"

"I—well, essentially, I'm a terrible person."

"I find that extremely hard to believe."

I smiled at him. "Well, thanks, but it's true."

"Well, in my experience with these things—not _personal _experience, mind you—I'm sure A.J. isn't completely blameless."

"Oh no, he is," I said bitterly. "He didn't even get mad. I mean, he was actually _understanding_! As I was breaking up with him, he just sat there, all 'I could never hate you, Lily' . . . What kind of person is so infallibly _nice _when they're getting kicked to the curb? The only time he actually showed any sort of proper anger was when I told him—" I stopped abruptly before I could accidentally share the part about James's and my almost kiss.

"When you told him what?" Sirius prompted.

"Nothing. It's . . . not important."

To my relief, Sirius just shrugged. "All right," he said easily. More solemnly, he added, "But you're not a terrible person, Lily. Trust me on that one—you're a far cry from all of the actually horrible people in the world, with their stupid prejudices, and ridiculous ideas about the world . . . the ones who'd just, for no reason . . ." he trailed off, his voice suddenly hard.

I frowned. "What do you—is everything okay, Sirius?"

Sirius blinked at me, as though he'd forgotten who he was talking to. With obvious effort, he hitched his usual grin back into place. "'Course."

"You're lying," I informed him.

"I never lie—Marauder's honor," he said, crossing his fist over his chest.

I rolled my eyes. "If something's got _you _put out, it must be bad."

Face abruptly hardening again, Sirius asked, "You didn't happen to see the _Daily Prophet _yesterday, did you?"

_No, I was a bit preoccupied realizing I had to break up with my boyfriend because I'd been a blind idiot for months. _Aloud, I asked apprehensively, "What, not more of that Raider business, is it?"

"No, not Raiders," Sirius said, and I was suddenly afraid to hear the real answer. "It was—there were some more—" he stopped, a fury I'd never seen before burning in his eyes. I forced myself not to look away. "My brother," he began again abruptly, "you know, Regulus—" I nodded, recalling with ease the ruthless yet handsome face of the younger Black—"he's wanted for torturing five Muggles in Manchester."

My heart thudded in my chest at the horror of such a statement. For a moment, I didn't know what to say. Once again, my self-imposed ignorance of the current state of the world proved regrettable, as this news completely threw me. My first thought was to ask if anyone else had been involved, as my mind immediately flew to Sev, but I felt that wasn't quite the right thing to do, considering the situation and the person I was speaking to. "I—Sirius, I'm . . . sorry," I finally said, knowing how lame it sounded but unable to think of anything else to offer.

He shrugged moodily. "It's just . . . I know it's stupid, but I think that maybe . . . maybe I should have . . . done something." He snorted, as if at the idiocy of his words.

"When your brother was still at school, you mean?"

Sirius nodded. "Maybe I could have—" but he cut himself off with a shake of his head.

"Saved him?" I asked solemnly.

Sirius looked at me in surprise, as though he'd expected me to scoff at the idea. "Yeah."

I sighed. "It doesn't work that way. Sometimes . . . you just can't."

We were silent for a moment, and I knew Sirius realized I wasn't just talking about Regulus anymore.

"Well, Mum and Dad will be proud, at least," Sirius went on bitterly. "Carrying on the family legacy, and all that . . ."

And I finally, belatedly, realized what was really eating at him about the whole thing. "You're not like them, Sirius," I said firmly.

He looked at me, but didn't say anything.

"You're not," I insisted. "You'd never even _think _about doing something like . . . like that."

"But I might have done," he replied. "If I hadn't been in Gryffindor, if I'd been in Slytherin like everyone else—"

"But you weren't," I cut in, though Sirius didn't appear to hear me.

"I grew up with all that pureblood mania," he continued, "except it _wasn't _mania, not to my parents. If I hadn't been influenced by the few sane members of my extended family, hadn't realized that the rest of them were fucking insane . . ." he trailed off; there was no need to explain what he was implying.

"Sirius Orion Black," I said adamantly, causing Sirius to raise his eyebrows, "first, yes I _do _know your middle name—you can thank Remus for that—and second, you're being completely and unacceptably daft about this whole thing. You're an illegally unregistered Animagus, which was a dangerous thing to attempt in itself, but you did it so you could undertake the even more dangerous task of helping your mate deal with his werewolf . . . issues. Do you think anyone in your family would've even been _friends _with him in the first place? And you're sitting here now, talking to me; none of the Slytherins would be caught dead doing that. And even though I'm emotionally distraught and mentally unstable and all you've done is tease me . . . well, that's just sort of how you are, so it doesn't—"

Sirius was laughing now. I grinned back at him, feeling a bit better myself, though I felt guilty that it had come at Sirius's expense. "Lily, you're a fantastic mate, have I ever told you that?"

"No," I said. "And it _is _nice to know I'm actually appreciated, after suffering through the terrible effort it takes to be mates with you—"

Sirius laughed again, before fixing me with a considering look. "I can see why . . ."

"Why what?"

He shook his head. "Well, anyway—thanks."

"Anytime. And it really isn't _that _bad, being mates with you, at least on days when we don't actually have to interact," I teased. But Sirius wasn't paying attention to me; his gaze was fixed at a point over my shoulder, and he was grinning. I turned around and my stomach and heart lurched in unison at the sight of James and Audrey entering the Three Broomsticks, hand in hand.

Turning quickly back to Sirius, I said hurriedly, "Sirius, I know it won't make sense, but please, _please_ don't—"

"Hey Prongs!" he yelled, waving to get James's attention.

"—call them over," I finished resentfully.

"What was that, Lily?" Sirius asked, finally turning to me. I just glared at him. "What?" he repeated as he moved to sit beside me, presumably to allow James and Audrey to occupy the same side of the booth. Which they did momentarily, only leaving me time to shoot another glare at Sirius before steeling myself to face James.

**

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A/N: Okay, okay, I know I promised drunk!Lily in this chapter, but I originally had the Sirius/Lily/Regulus conversation planned for later, but then I changed things a bit and it didn't fit where I had it anymore, so I put it in **_**this **_**chapter instead, and drunk!Lily got cut. BUT, even if you didn't follow that rambling explanation, the point is she will DEFINITELY be in the next chapter (drunk!Lily, that is, not Lily in general, b/c obviously she'll be in the next chapter).**

**And yes, James is being an idiot. That will be (partially) explained in the next chapter as well.**

**But ding, dong, A.J. is gone! Hurrahs forever and all that ;)**

**Oh, and one final thing (because I know this is something I would care about)—below are the chapters/context of Lily's little flashback montage (btdubs it took me FOREVER to find all these quotes the first time!):**

"_You're not one for arguing much, are you?"_

"_Do you want me to mistrust you all the time? And fight with you more?"_**—both from A.J. and Lily's fight last chapter**

"_Good thing we'll never have to worry about that."_**—James to Lily last chapter when they were out on the grounds**

"_I already knew you'd rather tie a large rock to your foot and jump into the ocean than kiss me."_**—James to Lily, from their bonding convo post the Chloe break-up on New Year's (Ch. 12—note: these are my chapter numbers, not the ffnet ones, which are one ahead b/c of the prologue)**

"_I . . . er, sort of let her believe that, because I didn't want her to know it was actually because I was just sick of dating her and welcomed the chance to end it"_**—James, when he and Lily are discussing his alleged 'feelings' for her (brought up by Chloe) after Lily's sobered up at his b-day party (Ch. 20)**

"_I think a bloke deserves to know if his girlfriend's in love with him."_**—James to Lily (well obviously, pretty much all of these are) after she tells him she loves A.J. (Ch. 27)**

"_I doubt you two will break up over it—he really likes you, after all . . . Why do you think I introduced you in the first place?"_**—James, after Lily and A.J.'s first fight (Ch. 18)**

"_You're not a coward, Lily."_

"_Because I'm in Gryffindor, right?"_

"_No, because you're you." ?"_**—from Lily and James's bonding sesh after they've gotten drinks for the Quidditch party (Ch. 28)**

_ "You're bloody amazing, you know that?"_**—James to Lily after their fight the night of the Quidditch party (Ch. 29)**

_ "Shh—it'll be our l'il secret."_**—James post drunken kiss (Ch. 23)**


	33. Killing Me Too

**To all of my superb, wonderful, fantastic, supermegafoxyawesomehot reviewers….why are you so amazing, you ask? Well, because this week you pushed my review count over 1000! So lets all give ourselves a pat on the back, shall we?**

**Right, now that that's done—thank you's and question-answering: AshJaz, skazmi, (haha, loved the run-on review!), alicenotinwonderland, DarlingILoveYou, Meeeee, jamessiriuspotter-forever (a THIRD? AJROJROAFJHKPJDKSJAPSAP! That would be amazing!), summersrain, Forever Wanting More, MaryandMerlin (haha, that's not **_**quite**_** how it goes, unfortunately….), jane (the next chapter is now! haha), 97chuckles (aww, you're too sweet!), emandem, Smile-Pass it on, Audrey, blissedoutvixen, WhatTheDevilIsGoingOnHere (glad you kept the name…), Tabbycat270, ShannyC1901 (oh, excellent, good to know I'm not letting too many Americanisms in!), Pandasrule7, sjm95x, Aen06, movinggirl, Katy Rose, starlight564, And drown me in love, musicluva4eva, MisszMarauder, HarryPotterFan, livibug, OttoIsMyDog, maximum destined potter (I'm fairly sure there already was an I Hate A.J. Club, at least unofficially ;)), JLforEver, GriffinRose, Marinewife08, MissArtemisFowl, Cassie Cayne, merlincrazy, AliLuvsAlli-Sirius, isigirl, tardisinthesgc, Menolly Harper, seriouslyblak, IIManzaII, WobblyJelly, Elizabeth Lullaby, viva gal, MaCherieLoup2416 (whoa, name change—I cannot handle this ;)), lollipopdiego, Lucius Malloy, Vanillaberries, LuckyDucky, EchoNightFall22, Howl To The Moon, PoseidonsLittleGirl, Evisawesome, RavenSoulSister, Nathymoonybr, silk399, jak23 (no, no s-word plans….and not really sure what I'll be writing next!), arelli-black, Ace-reporter, Marauder'sGirlCuzI'mUp2NoGood, ErinFabu, dopey4dobby (er, should I be worried?), Dancethroughlife, Elless (you mean, why isn't Regulus still at Hogwarts? He ditched to join Voldy—it came up briefly in….chapter 19), theycallherkaush, Tribot, Jenn222, lilyandjames53, Bittersweet x (your review still made me laugh a lot on the second read!), and xLycheeRAiN (first reviewer again! I should get you a prize…)**

**You have no idea how much I enjoy your reviews. Seriously, they are lovely, encouraging, and oftentimes absolutely hilarious! I wish I could share some of my favorite ones with you, but I would feel a little weird posting them—somehow, it seems like an invasion of privacy. Even though they're posted for the world to see on ffnet, should the world care enough to look. But anyway, enough of my rambling.**

**So, I meant to have this chapter out earlier, especially because it's kind of a shorty this time, but my work schedule has been **_**crazy **_**this week, and, well . . . there's my attempt at an excuse. But here it is now, for your reading pleasure.**

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Previously: After James pulls away from the kiss, Lily realizes she fancies him, and proceeds to have an intense internal montage-y debate before deciding to confront James. Before she can, however, A.J. interrupts, and Lily just ends up lamely pretending she was there to borrow James's Transfig book, which he lends her since he is such a gentleman (or something). Next morning, Lily finds out James is going to Hogsmeade with Audrey. She breaks up with A.J. in the Three Broomsticks, has a bonding moment with Sirius, and everything is going swimmingly until….J and A show up. Dun, dun DUN. Well, okay, not that dramatic. Or is it? You decide….**

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Chapter 32: Killing Me Too**

When I finally worked up the courage to look at him, he was grinning at Sirius, and I got the distinct impression he was purposely ignoring me. Of course, he could have acknowledged my presence and then turned to his best mate, only I'd missed it because I'd been staring at my lap . . . _okay, I cannot be overanalyzing everything already—get a grip, Lily._

But when James said, "Padfoot, what're you doing here?" without any sort of greeting to me, I felt justified in my original suspicions. Not to mention a bit offended—what did he mean, what was Sirius doing here? Was I not worthy of his attention either?

"Lily and I have just been having a lovely chat about . . . er—" he looked at me, and I raised an eyebrow, challenging him to think of something from our recent conversation that would be appropriate to share with our table companions. Apparently realizing his mistake, Sirius continued vaguely with, "things. She's a fabulous conversationalist, did you know?"

James just smiled in response, though it had an almost strained quality to it. "Audrey, this is one of my mates, Sirius," he said, and the two shook hands.

After a brief pause, Sirius added, after a confused look at James, "And this is Lily Evans."

"Yes, I think we've met," Audrey said as I (reluctantly) shook hands with her as well. "Or at least, James has mentioned you."

_Has he indeed? _I thought contemptuously. _Did he also happen to _mention_ the fact that we almost kissed __**last night?**_ _And why does she make it sound like they're old chums who meet up every Saturday for a heart-to-heart chat? _Aloud I merely said, "Yes, he's mentioned you as well." To James, I couldn't help adding, "Finally cashed in that raincheck, have you?"

While having the desired result of finally making him look at me, his reaction was somewhat unexpected. He frowned, seeming almost disappointed, and to my irritation, it actually made me feel ashamed of my petty outburst.

At any rate, it was Audrey who answered, laughing, "I'd forgotten about that! But we took care of that a while ago," she added with a wink at James, and I wasn't sure if that meant earlier that day, or if they'd been meeting up for secret snogs the entire year. Somehow, I had a feeling it was the former, which only made me angrier.

Fighting the urge to throw something—preferably something hard, and preferably at James's head—I clenched my hands together under the table.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Sirius's gaze slide down to my tightly clasped hands, then up to my face. I spared him a brief glance, just long enough to catch the eyebrow he arched questioningly at me, before he said, with an obvious effort to redirect the conversation, "So, you seen Moony and his lady love around these parts, Prongs? I thought you two might've doubled with them."

James rolled his eyes. "Oh yeah, I'd expect he'd only have bitten my head off if I'd suggested it. And no, I haven't seen hide nor hair of him today." The two Marauders grinned at each other, and I snorted at their not-so-subtle reference to their friend's lycanthropy. Not that Audrey noticed anything suspicious about their exchange, but still.

Suddenly remembering something, I blurted out, "Aren't you supposed to be in detention, Potter?"

He smirked at me. "Yeah, but I rescheduled it."

"Rescheduled it," I repeated dubiously.

"Yep. Told McGonagall I had some very important business to take care of, so she's having me come in tomorrow instead."

"No. McGonagall did _not _reschedule your detention because you told her you had a _date._"

James sighed. "Well of course not, Evans. I didn't use that as my excuse; do you think I'm an idiot?"

"Yes," I answered automatically, and I thought I heard Sirius chuckle beside me.

Seemingly caught off guard, it was a moment before James answered. Though I could feel myself start to blush, I held his gaze determinedly. "Er, anyway, I told her you'd asked to meet about Head stuff and—"

"And if she asks me about it later, I'd better lie for you?"

"No, that's not what I—I mean, yes, it'd be nice if you would, but—"

"Sure thing, not a problem," I said, my voice falsely bright.

James frowned at me again, this time in confusion. I could feel Sirius's eyes on me as well, but Audrey was inspecting her nails, looking bored. "I didn't lie to McGonagall just because I _assumed _I could count on you to lie for me, you know," he said.

"Fine, whatever," I said.

"Look, I'm just trying to—"

"Just—drop it, James, okay? It doesn't matter."

"Right, well, since you've obviously got your knickers in a twist, I don't see any need for us to stay," James said shortly. "Padfoot, good luck with this one, mate."

Without looking to see if his date was following, James stood and strode towards the door. Audrey, who had been drumming her fingers impatiently on the table, was none to slow to follow him, with just the barest of departing nods towards Sirius and I.

As soon as they'd left, I sat back against the booth with a huff. "Don't see how he has any right to be pissed," I muttered.

Sirius moved to sit across from me again, fixing me with a half-surprised, half-amused look. "What was all that about, then?"

"All what?" I asked, trying to sound innocent. I might have been experiencing internal emotional distress where James was concerned, but I wasn't about to discuss it with Sirius.

He sighed. "Don't play cute with me, Evans. You looked ready to jump across the table and strangle the pair of them."

I shook my head. "You're not getting anything out of me, Black, so you might as well give up now."

"And just when we were getting along so well," Sirius said regretfully, earning a glare from me. Grinning, he slapped the table with his hand and stood up. "Well, you need a drink," he declared.

"What? No, that's not—I don't—" But he was already making his way to the bar, ignoring my feeble attempts to protest.

Sirius soon returned balancing two faintly smoking drinks in one hand and two mugs of butterbeer in the other. Placing one of each pair in front of me, he instructed, "Firewhiskey shot, butterbeer chaser," pointing to the drinks in turn. Holding his own firewhiskey aloft, he raised his eyebrows at me. "Ready?"

"No," I said, though I copied his actions anyway. Toasting me with his glass, Sirius expertly threw back the drink, finishing it in two large gulps. I took a tentative sip of my own, wincing as it burned the back of my throat. Looking up at Sirius again, I found him shaking his head in disappointment.

"It's a shot, Evans," he said, as though explaining something quite obvious to a child who should have known better. "You don't sip it. Honestly, have I taught you nothing about drinking?"

"No," I answered truthfully.

"Oh—well, then, it's about time I imparted some of my vast and impressive knowledge upon you, eh?"

"Er, I suppose," I answered slowly.

"Well, go on then," Sirius said, waving his hand at my unfinished drink.

Wrinkling my nose, and knowing I'd probably regret it, I raised the glass to my lips again, swallowing the stuff as quickly as I could. Coughing, I reached immediately for the butterbeer, hoping to rid myself of the awful taste. "God, that's disgusting," I said. "And it makes this taste horrible too," I added, lifting my butterbeer mug.

Sirius grinned again. "It grows on you—trust me. A few more, and you won't taste a thing."

"Comforting," I said dryly.

**OOOOOOOO**

However, after testing his theory—quite thoroughly, I might add—I discovered that Sirius was right. After the third drink, a sort of numbness settled over my throat, and I found that I didn't mind the bitter taste much at all. In fact, I no longer minded much of anything by the time we left the Three Broomsticks later that night to make our stumbling way back to the castle, arms around each other for balance. Well, it was more for my benefit than Sirius's, as he was handling the—er—_several_ firewhiskeys we'd had much better.

"Y'know," I observed momentarily, finding that it took extensive concentration to walk and talk at the same time, "I think that's the longest I've . . . I've ever stayed in Hogsmeade."

"Ah, well, it gets a bit rowdy after hours," Sirius informed me. "Best get a pretty young thing like you back to Hogwarts where she belongs."

"Sirius Black, are you _flirting _with me?" I asked accusatorily.

"I wouldn't dream of it, love," he said with a wink.

"Yes you would," I muttered, earning a laugh from Sirius.

We somehow survived the seven floor climb to Gryffindor Tower, though not without many complaints from me, complaints which weren't lessened by the fact that I forgot and consequently got stuck in the trick step on the staircase to the fifth floor. "Too many bloody fucking stairs in this sodding school," I grumbled after Sirius had helped yank me free.

"Language, Evans," Sirius scolded. "You're behaving appallingly for one in your illustrious position—Head Girls shouldn't be found stumbling back to their dormitories swearing at everything that moves, you know. Or doesn't move, as the case may be."

"Sod off—it's your fault, anyway."

Sirius laughed again. "You're quite fun when you're drunk."

"And what about when I'm not drunk?" I shot back.

"Oh, you're fun then too, just . . . in a different way."

The common room was fairly crowded and noisy, with it being a Saturday night, so no one really noticed Sirius's and my entrance. Mary was the first to spot us, and she leapt up from her chair immediately and strode over to me, looking a little put out. "I haven't seen you in ages, Lily, what have y—are you drunk?"

"Mary, thank _God _you're here," I said, ignoring her question and grabbing hold of her hands. "I have desperate need of your brilliant advice-giving . . . advisement."

"You _are _drunk," my best friend said, "and that is not like you—I mean, it's not really 'like' anyone, unless they're an alcoholic, but . . . what happened?"

"My life is absolute and utter crap," I declared. "Hence my need for the aforementioned advice."

"Not too drunk, then, if you can still use words like 'aforementioned,'" Mary muttered.

Before I could reply, a new voice rang out across the common room. "Merlin, Lily, there you are." I turned, blinking as the room spun with my movement, and saw James starting towards us. "I was starting to think you'd—what's wrong with you?" he demanded, frowning as he neared me.

"Oh, that's nice," I said, glaring at him. "Especially since you're the one who's . . . wrong."

James raised an eyebrow. "And you're the one who's . . . drunk?" he questioned, looking to Mary and Sirius for confirmation. Mary sighed, nodding, and Sirius just grinned.

"His fault," I said promptly, pointing at Sirius.

"I regret nothing," he declared. "Besides, I got you back on time didn't I?" Before I could ask him what he meant by that, he added to James. "And now, I leave her in your capable hands, Prongs."

"Wait," I said, but Sirius was already walking away. "I don't—there's not—I want nothing to do with his hands!"

Sirius didn't turn around, and I looked away to find James raising both eyebrows at me now, while Mary's expression told me I had some serious explaining to do by her account.

Sighing, I said, "It really was his fault. I wouldn't normally—I mean, I'd never have—" But I stopped abruptly as Sirius's words finally sunk in. "Back on time," I repeated softly. "Back . . . shit!" I said loudly. Mary took a surprised step backwards, but I could have sworn James's lips twitched slightly. "We have rounds now don't we?"

"That we do," James said pleasantly.

"Bloody hell," I groaned. "Okay, just give me—"

"I'll just leave her with you, then, shall I?" James addressed Mary, talking over me.

"Yeah, I'll take care of her," she said with a sigh, though there was an amused smile threatening to spread across her lips.

"I'm right here, you know—there's no need to talk about me like I'm a child," I protested irritably.

"Yes, because you're acting so mature," James said sarcastically, suddenly betraying a bit of the annoyance that, had I not been so frustrated with him at the moment, I might have expected.

As it was, I just snorted and scoffed, "Don't lecture me about maturity, Potter."

"No, I wouldn't imagine I'd have the right to do that, Flower," he said, speaking the usually teasing nickname with a derision that froze my retort on my lips. "Good luck," he added to Mary. He seemed to be wishing a lot of people luck where I was concerned today, though what that meant, exactly, I didn't really care to analyze at the moment.

Without further parting words to either of us, James turned towards the portrait hole. I didn't wait for him to reach it before stating emphatically to Mary, "I hate him, Mary, I really do. You have no idea what he's—"

"Lily," she interrupted, speaking in a forced whisper. "Do you really want to announce your personal problems to the entire common room?"  
Looking around, I discovered that several people were indeed watching me with interest. Wincing, I turned back to Mary. "No." We made for the dormitory stairs, but I stopped at their base, shooting them a dubious look. "I don't think I can make it up these."

We ended up sitting in an empty corridor, leaning against the wall.

"All right, spill," Mary demanded. "And don't you dare leave one single detail out."

So I didn't. Starting from The Incident, as I'd taken to calling it in my head, I moved through my internal debate in the shower, my rash decision to confront James that night, the disastrous results of said decision, and everything that had happened today at Hogsmeade. When I finally fell silent, I could feel the effects of the alcohol starting to wear off, leaving in its wake the beginnings of a headache and a slightly queasy stomach.

Mary was silent for a long time. "Merlin, Lily," she finally said quietly.

I laughed humorlessly. "I know. I mean, what kind of person thinks she's in love, then decides a month later that she isn't, and _then_, a month after _that_, realizes she completely fancies the pants off another bloke?"

"I don't know, Lily."

I frowned at her. "That's not exactly helpful."

"No, that's not how I meant it, I just . . . what are you going to do?"

This time I elbowed her lightly. "I'm supposed to be asking you that question!"

"Asking me what I'm going to do? I hardly think it'll matter."

"_No_; honestly, what is wrong with you?"

"Okay, I'm sorry." She paused, then added, "You need to talk to James."

I sighed. "Yeah, I tried doing that, but it didn't exactly work out."

"You mean last night?" Mary rolled her eyes when I nodded. "That wasn't exactly a valiant effort, Lily."

"But . . . what am I supposed to tell him?"

"That you . . . what was it? Fancy the pants off him?" she suggested.

"I can't, though," I groaned.

"Why not?"

"Because . . . what if he doesn't . . . I mean, he went on a _date _today! It's not like he's pining or anything. In fact, he seems completely normal, while I'm the one having a nervous breakdown and acting like a mental person."

"Well, you're going to go even more insane if you don't say anything. I mean, your recent escapades aren't exactly encouraging for the future."

"Harsh, Mary—can't a girl just have a bad day?"

My best mate grinned at me. "Of course you can, dear."

The smiles slowly faded off both of our faces. I leaned my head on Mary's shoulder, and she wrapped an arm around me. "I can't just start something with James, though, even if he is . . . you know, interested," I said, picking up our conversation again. "That wouldn't be fair to A.J.; it would just make me seem completely heartless. Which, okay, I suppose I sort of am anyway, but . . ."

"You're not heartless, Lily," Mary insisted, and I was reminded of Sirius's similar insistence, before he'd told me about his brother.

"So everyone keeps telling me," I muttered. "But you can't deny that what I did . . . that was just . . . I'm just so . . . completely hopeless."

Mary smiled again at that. "You'll figure it out, Lil, I know you will."

"Well at least one of us has confidence in me." After a bit of silence, I went on, "You know, I'm surprised you've kept your 'I told you so's under control."

Mary shot me a confused look. "What are you talking about?"

"Oh come on—my confession about James? I figured you'd be all over that one."

"Well, I'd nearly given up on you, to tell you the truth."

Her words hit me harder than I think she intended, though I tried not to show it. The thing was, I couldn't help but think James had given up on me as well. Which, considering The Incident, might seem a little backwards, but this morning with Audrey . . . well, it had started me thinking that maybe he'd never had something to give up on in the first place. And if that was the case, then I truly was hopeless, and nothing Mary could say would change that.

**OOOOOOOO**

When we re-entered the common room a little while later, I immediately knew I wouldn't be able to handle all the commotion and noise. I made my excuses to Mary and escaped to the quiet of my room. However, after unsuccessfully trying to fall asleep—the room still spun whenever I closed my eyes—I got up with a sigh, my stomach now feeling decidedly unstable. Hoping a warm shower would help, I stepped into the bathroom and turned on the water. I felt marginally better when I got out half an hour later, but the headache that had started when I was talking to Mary had increased to a steady pounding.

With a sigh, I pulled on the clothes I'd just discarded, threw my hair into a messy ponytail, and trudged back down to the common room. I brought a few school books down with me, though I had no illusions that I'd actually get any work done. But I also knew it was too late to go to Madame Pomfrey for a headache tonic, which meant I'd be up for a few more hours anyway. Might as well pretend I was going to be productive. _Maybe Sirius'll still be around, and I can give him grief for leaving me in such a state. And maybe ask him for advice on how to go about snagging his best mate._ I snorted at the thought. Much as I liked Sirius, I knew anything I said to him would inevitably get back to James, and I definitely did not want that.

However, Sirius was no where to be found. Remus and Peter were absent too, though I wasn't sure I wanted to talk to them, either, and Mary must have gone to bed, which was a bit disappointing, as I probably _could _have used another talk with her. Being alone with my thoughts almost certainly wasn't the best move at the moment.

I was pretty much ignored by everyone reveling in Saturday night freedom, which was perfectly fine by me. I plopped down onto a couch by the fire, tossing my books carelessly on the cushion beside me. Leaning my head back, I closed my eyes and concentrated on easing my throbbing head until—

"You know, they make beds for that. Ones in quiet rooms, too."

I cracked an eyelid to see James take a seat across from me, dropping his bookbag on the table between us.

"Yes, that would be nice, if my head didn't feel like someone was beating the inside of it with a hammer." Closing my eyes again, I added resentfully, "I hate Sirius."

"Ah. Well, I'll have to let him know I can sympathize with him sometime, if he'd like."

It took me a minute to realize he was referring to a specific alcohol-induced event from earlier this evening, rather than my general history of hatred towards him. When I did, I opened my eyes again with a grimace. "Er, right—I didn't mean that. I was just . . . well, I'm sorry. About, you know, everything today."

James shrugged and reached for his bookbag.

As he started digging through it, I said incredulously, "_You _are doing _homework _on a _Saturday night_?"

James shot me a quick smile before resuming his digging. "Well, I haven't really done any the past two days—"

"And that's different from your usual schedule?"

"Well, no, not really, but—" he stopped, frowning into his bag. "Actually, that might not change if I can't find my—oh." Suddenly, he looked uncomfortable.

"What?"

Clearing his throat, James said quickly, "Er, nothing—it's just, I was going to do Transfiguration, but you, er . . . still have my book."

An awkward silence descended between us. "Right," I said finally, staring at James's left knee because I couldn't bring myself to meet his eyes. "Well, I can go get it, if you want." Glancing up at him, I was relieved to find that he wasn't looking at me either; instead, he was pulling out his Charms book and notes.

"No, don't worry about it. I can just get it tomorrow."

"Yes, that's probably better anyway. If I went up there now, I'd probably be too tempted by my bed to make it back down here."

James smirked at the blank parchment he was now scribbling on. "I thought your head hurt too much to sleep."

"I'm glad you find amusement at my pain," I returned.

James just frowned in response, though I wasn't sure if it was directed at what I'd said, or a particularly difficult Charms question. I watched him work in silence for a while, alternating between a need to shout at him for being such a prick and the urge to leap across the table and snog the daylights out of him.

It was during a bout of the latter that he suddenly looked up at me, and I felt my heart lodge itself in my throat as I considered for one fearful (or was it wonderful?) second that he'd read my mind. But what he said next was completely unexpected.

"We're not dating."

I couldn't help replying, "Hmm, yes, I _do _seem to recall declining a heavy number of proposals to that purpose." _Yeah, that's great, Lily—just drive him further away._

James glared at me. "Not _us_, Evans—Audrey and I. She just—she asked me a couple of days ago if I wanted to go to Hogsmeade this weekend, and I agreed because, you know, she's a fun girl, but there's not—I mean, we're not . . . seeing each other," he finished.

To his credit, I was the one who broke eye contact first. "Er, okay," I said, picking at a stray thread on my skirt as I tried to work out why he was telling me this.

"Right, well, I thought you should know, because you seemed . . . well, earlier you were—"

"It didn't have anything to do with that," I cut in, wondering where all these lies were coming from, and wishing I could stop them. "But thanks for telling me, anyway."

James nodded and returned to his homework, frowning slightly again.

"A.J. and I broke up," I said abruptly, and James looked up so fast it was a wonder he didn't get a crick in his neck.

"You did?" he asked, actually sounding surprised, which only made me feel more hopeless about the current mess I was making of the situation. And when he added, "I'm sorry," as though he genuinely meant it, I had to fight the frustrated scream that threatened to burst from my lips.

"It's fine," I muttered, fiddling with the frayed patch on my skirt again.

"Lily, about the . . . um, other thing," James continued, and it was I who looked up quickly this time, "It—it was a—that is, I shouldn't have . . ."

Hearing him attempt to write off our near-kiss as a mistake was the final blow, and suddenly, I didn't think I could stand being near him another minute. Still, I managed to say, "It's okay—you've obviously moved on, so we'll just . . . pretend it never happened." I grabbed my books and made to leave.

"Lily—" James started.

I turned back, and because I didn't want to hear anything else he had to say, I interrupted again. "Don't let me forget to give you your Transfiguration book tomorrow, yeah?"

Though he clearly wanted to say something else, James eventually settled with joking, "I think the threat of McGonagall's wrath for unfinished homework will be motivation enough for me to remember."

Nodding, without even an attempt at a smile, I walked quickly towards the girls' staircase, making it all the way back to my dormitory before the tears began to fall.

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A/N: I always feel sort of weird/arrogant saying this, but … I really like this chapter. Anyway, hope y'all did too. Also, just so you can mentally prepare yourselves, there will probably be another cliffie at the end of the next chapter. I know, I know, but what can I say? I'm a cliffhanger whore.**

**Until next time!**


	34. Can't Get You Off My Mind

**Reviewers, you complete me ;) Thanks this week to: Meeeee (er….sorry, nothing I can do about it. Well, okay, I **_**could**_**, but….nope), jjxlea123, zoya, Abi (yeah, I'm kind of back to random updates, haha), The Candy Spooky Theater, JustAReader, faxlover0199, zaurora (You can ask, but….I don't think I can pick just one! How about top five? Okay….Luna, Lupin, Sirius, Ron, and Neville), Miss larien (well, this chapter is sort of short-ish again, but I think the next couple will be longer!), In Love With Prongs, I'm A Cuckoo (don't worry, it's coming soon! And by 'it' I of course mean L/J), Twilight Starlynn, junebugbug96, Teen Typist (No, not weird at all that you suddenly had a Rocky Horror reference—that happens to me all the time, where random phrases make me think of songs. Must happen at least twelve times a day. And yes, that was a completely random number I just made up on the spot ;) But thanks for the lovely review!), Audrey, freefallingx19, steel-trap (welcome back, haha), Evisawesome, anon w/no name, jak23 (make like Lily and do school on a sat….I see what you did there), OttoIsMyDog (I think 2 chapters after this….I know, almost over! Crazy), swishflick, CitrineDiamondEyes, mballerina4, dopey4dobby (er, excellent, that's…comforting? haha), MiToesesRTotallyRoses (no worries—can't win 'em all, right?), EchoNightFall22, SucksRoyalHippogriff, Tabbycat270, livibug, GriffinRose, fisforphenomenal (you're welcome!), 97chuckles (or something….yes ;)), MaryandMerlin (okay, okay, I'm on it!), Emotionsonhold, maximum destined potter (my dear, you can be the president), alicenotinwonderland, lollipopdiego, AliLuvsAlli-Sirius, WobblyJelly, starlight564 (yay, glad I could brighten your day—and that seems to be the theme this week for reviews….lots of people having crappy weeks, I guess), Vanillaberries, IIManzaII, Lucius Malloy, DobbyLivesAgain, RavenSoulSister, summersrain, viva gal, Tribot, wolftracks17, tardinsinthesgc (yum! I love chocolate chip cookies—thanks!), DarlingILoveYou, Dancethroughlife (2 chapters left probs), merlincrazy, Menolly Harper, ErinFabu, KellyNicoleSum, Hoperocks98 (You absolutely may marry my story! haha. I will officiate, and wish you many long and happy years together…), ISolemnlySwearIAmUpToNoGood (no, I never thought it would get so popular! Seriously, it blows my mind every day…I was honestly just hoping to beat out my other stories in number of reviews, and the most I had before this one was like 400 something!), Can't we just be death eaters (wait, wait—new name again? Girl, I can't handle this….no, but I really like this one!), MisszMarauder, Orange-Coyote, Marinewife08, M.M. MarauderStyle, Elless (yup, they be getting all up on each other in a soonish manner….wow, that was a WEIRD way to answer that question…), xxjenlovexx (no, probs no more Snape…yes, I am a terrible author for just dumping him….whoops), arelli-black (wow, that sucks! I'm sorry!), PoseidonsLittleGirl (you sense correctly….), angiedotdotla, silk399, xLycheeRAiN (you were beat out by like 3 minutes this week! But I will give you a prize anyway….though it's rather hard to think of something to give over the internet without sounding dirty….hmmm….oh, I know! See below for your prize ;)), and Annabec! Oh, and pinkcatheaven (sorry, you reviewed ch. 32, but DON'T WORRY, I got to the end of this list and was like, hmmm, where was that person who requested a reply so they could see comments next to their name….but here you are! Sorry 'bout the Americanisms, I try to avoid them, but often fail…and sadly there is no Google translate for American to British English—I checked ;) There, hope that satisfied your needs….okay, that sounded dirtier than I intended….er, right, moving on, then). Just so you know, that took up a WHOLE PAGE in Word…wow. And it makes an EPIC paragraph here, too!  
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**You. Guys. I just bought a ticket to London this summer to visit my friend and—wait for it—GO TO THE DH PT.2 PREMIERE! Okay, sorry, just had to freak out for a minute.**

**Anyway, this chapter is dedicated to the lovely xLycheeRAiN, who has been the first reviewer for the past four chapters! Four for you xLycheeRAiN, you go xLycheeRAiN!**

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Previously: You know, general tomfoolery and such. Okay, no, sorry…I just feel like I'm bad at summaries anyway. Well, here's my actual effort: Lily goes off on James b/c of Audrey, but he doesn't really get it, the dolt, so Sirius provides therapy in the form of alcohol, which only leads to disaster and hilarity. Anyway, Lily complains to Mary of her plights for a bit, tries and fails to go to sleep, and finally ends the night talking with James, where she misses the perfect opening to confess everything and gets a (metaphorical) sucker punch to the stomach when he implies that it was a mistake to try and kiss her.**

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Chapter 33:** **Can't Get You off My Mind**

The following day was more of the same, at least with regards to my inner turmoil, though there was considerably less using-alcohol-to-deal-with-my-problems stuff. Which, you know, was probably good where my health was concerned—not to say I couldn't have used it, unfortunately.

"Did you talk to him yet?" were the first words out of Mary's mouth when I met her in the common room the next morning to go down to breakfast.

"And a good morning to you too," I returned pointedly.

Mary waved me off impatiently. "Yes, yes, and all that. So?"

I sighed. "You know, this is causing me considerable emotional distress; you could at least attempt to ask me about it in a more delicate fashion. Instead of sounding like Marlene begging for the latest piece of gossip."

"Ouch, Lil—bit harsh, don't you think?"

"Emotional distress, Mary."

"All right, I'm sorry. It's just—"

"Just what?"

My friend bit her lip. "I mean . . . well, you don't exactly . . . _seem _distressed about it."

I threw her a look. "I cried myself to sleep last night—that clear things up for you?"

Mary expression immediately became stricken, and I felt a little guilty about my sharp reply. But only a little. "Oh, Lily, I didn't—I mean, yes, last night you were obviously bothered, but really, who wouldn't be, but if I'd known you were—I _never _would have said—I'm so, _so _sorry!"

I couldn't help laughing a little at her rambling and hurried apology, and Mary visibly relaxed at my response. "It's fine, Mary—really. But honestly, what part of 'fancy the pants off' didn't you get?"

"No, I know. I should have been more sensitive, but . . . I mean, it _is _about time, after all." She said this last part with a sheepish sort of grin.

"Aha! I knew you couldn't hold it in for long." Then her words truly registered, and I frowned. "Hang on, how long have you been waiting for this, exactly? Please tell me it's not since you got all hyped up about the letters over Christmas last year."

"No, not since then. Well, not _really_ . . . I mean, at that specific moment, yes, but then things started with A.J. fairly quickly after that—which I absolutely supported, by the way; I don't want you to think I've been a completely crap friend."

"I would never think that," I assured her. "Not completely, anyway," I added with a grin.

"Fantastic," Mary said dryly. "But as I was saying, after A.J. . . . well, it wasn't until . . . more recently, that I started to think you . . ." she trailed of with a shrug, looking sheepish again.

I just stared at her. "How is it possible you knew before I did? Oh, that's right—because I'm astoundingly clueless, that's how," I finished bitterly.

"Lily," Mary started sympathetically.

But I cut her off, suddenly realizing something. "Merlin, you even tried to warn me, didn't you? With all that 'be careful' rubbish—or, I thought it was rubbish at the time, anyway—but you were right . . . I've made an absolute mess of everything."

Mary seemed to be struggling with herself, as though debating whether she should say . . . whatever it was that she so clearly wanted to.

I raised an eyebrow at her. "Might as well just get it out, dear," I said sardonically.

"You have to talk to James," she burst out. "And I know I already said that—"

"Mary," I tried to interject.

"—but you do, Lily, you just . . . have to!"

"I know, but—"

"And this might be pushy, and maybe it means I _am _a bad friend, much as I just tried to argue otherwise, but you're not going to—"

"Mary!" I said loudly, finally capturing her attention. "I know I have to talk to James, but . . . I can't."

She shot me an exasperated look. "_Lily_—"

"No, this isn't just my normal running-away-from-everything-because-that's-apparently-how-I-deal-with-my-problems thing . . . I—I just can't talk to him about this. Believe me, I tried last night." And I told her about our conversation, how I couldn't seem to stop spouting lie after lie.

Mary looked at me seriously when I'd finished. "Look, Lily, if you really want to work this out, you can't just give up."

"I know," I said. "I don't want to, either—Merlin knows I've hardly tried in the first place—but . . . it's too late, Mary. I mean, if James ever felt anything for me—" I ignored my friend's disbelieving scoff—"it's gone now."

"Oh, come on, Lily—"

"Mary," I said firmly, starting to get a little frustrated, "he called nearly kissing me a mistake."

"He didn't actually say that—"

"Stop it! Just . . . I'm having enough trouble with all of it without you trying to convince me I might be looking at it all wrong."

"But what if you are?"

"But I'm not." When Mary opened her mouth to protest again, I cut her off with a shake of my head. "Look, he might not have directly called it a mistake, but he _did _say he shouldn't have done it. And all he did when I told him I broke up with A.J. was act sympathetic about it. If he really wanted to . . . I mean, it's _James_; he doesn't exactly hesitate to say everything that pops into his head."

Mary still looked like she wanted to argue, but thankfully she recognized that I wanted the subject dropped. "I suppose you could always just ask him for a quick shag and see what happens," she said eventually, glancing at me sideways with a sly grin.

That surprised a laugh out of me. "Now _that _is—"

"Excellent, I love a good shagging story." I turned to see Sirius behind us, grinning wickedly. "Anyone in particular in mind, Evans?"

I tried to remain calm, telling myself there was no way he could have overheard the other part of our conversation. "Well, certainly not you, for starters," I retorted.

"Oh, of course not," he agreed seriously. "I wouldn't be a good shag, anyway." I frowned at his apparent humility, until he ruined it by grinning again and adding, "I'd be a great one."

Mary snorted beside me. "Honestly, Sirius," she muttered.

"I am being perfectly honest, Macdonald."

"It is far too early for you and your vulgarity, Black," I said.

"So, you're saying you'd be open to it later, then?"

I didn't even dignify that with an answer as we slid onto the benches at Gryffindor table, joining Remus and Peter, who'd obviously been there a while judging by their nearly empty plates.

Jumping in before Sirius could continue our conversation, I asked Remus, "How'd things go with Carin yesterday?"

Both Peter and Sirius looked up expectantly at this. "Yes, do share, Moony," Sirius said, "since _someone _failed to produce an adequate report." He glared at Peter, who looked back defiantly.

"I told you, I got caught behind a group of third years in Honeydukes, and by the time I'd—"

"I knew we should have worked harder to put Hogsmeade on the Map," Sirius interrupted. "Though I would have thought you could have managed this one simple job, Wormtail."

Peter opened his mouth to retort indignantly, but Remus cut in before he could do so. "Or maybe you could have considered the fact that you're immature prats for thinking I'd let you spy on us—honestly, Padfoot, I thought—"

"Oh, like you weren't on board about it when we tailed Prongs and Lindsay Vaughn in third year—"

"Exactly—that was _third year_, Sirius—"

"Merlin, will you lot _shut up_?" I interjected loudly. The three Marauders looked at me in surprise, as though they'd forgotten Mary and I were there. "I'd rather if my ears remained unassaulted until at least ten, thanks," I added, stabbing forcefully at my sausage.

"You weren't kidding, were you?" Peter muttered to Sirius, causing me to glance between the pair of them suspiciously.

"What is that supposed to mean?" I demanded, but Peter just shrugged, eyes shifting uneasily.

When I rounded on Sirius, he merely grinned and said casually, "Perhaps a drink would calm you down, eh Evans?"

From this I gathered that he'd shared much of the details of yesterday with Remus and Peter—_of bloody course; the lot of them tell each other everything, like a bunch of gossipy teenage girls_—but before I could accuse Sirius of as much, Mary spoke up.

"Oh, leave her alone, would you? She's emotionally distraught."

I whipped around to glare at my best friend, who only flashed a brief, smug smile at me. While the others (hopefully) couldn't guess my distress was associated with James, and would instead assume it stemmed from my recent split with A.J., I knew Mary's comment was an intentional push of her earlier argument that I talk to James.

When I turned away from her, I found Peter looking a bit baffled, Remus glancing away guiltily, and Sirius grinning at his plate. After glaring fiercely at the latter, I repeated my original query to Remus. "Anyway, Hogsmeade—how was your day?"

"Better than yours, for sure," Remus said, then immediately winced. "Sorry, that was insensitive."

"No, that's all right—hard for it not to rub off, hanging around this lot, I'm sure," I said, waving my hand at Sirius and Peter and gesturing vaguely at the Entrance Hall to include James as well.

As I glanced over my shoulder in doing so, I saw that James was in fact strolling towards the Great Hall at that moment. Quickly turning around again, I searched frantically for an excuse to leave the table, not ready to face him yet.

"Yes, how cruel of you, Moony," Sirius was saying. "Can't you see the poor girl's distressed?"

_Ironically, I owe you one for that, Sirius_. Letting out an over-exaggerated sigh, I said, "Right, I'm through with breakfast. You all can find someone else to terrorize."

As I made to stand, Sirius grabbed my arm. "Don't be like that, Lily," he pleaded, though he was smirking all the same. "You know we have nothing but the deepest affection for you."

Rolling my eyes, I pulled my arm free from his grasp. "Nice try, Black."

"You're all pricks," I heard Mary say as I walked away, and I smiled slightly to myself. I debated whether I could make it past James without having to acknowledge him, but quickly threw that idea out—it'd be far too obvious that I was deliberately avoiding him. As it was, James nearly gave me a heart attack with his comment on passing me.

"Not running away from me, are you Evans?" he asked teasingly.

Scanning his face for any hint that he knew more than he should while simultaneously hoping I didn't look guilty, I answered, "No—I haven't touched my homework this weekend, though, so I'm barricading myself in my room until I get it done." _At least the second part is true_, I thought ruefully.

James nodded, seeming to accept this as a believable excuse. "Well, if you need a break, I'm sure I could use some company in detention this afternoon, Flower," he said with a wink, before continuing on towards Gryffindor table.

Trying not to concentrate too much on the way my heart was pounding or the slight tremble in my hands, I deliberately started through a list of the work I had to complete that afternoon. By the time I reached the seventh floor corridor where the Fat Lady's portrait hung, I had a study schedule worked out, knowing that throwing myself into homework was my best chance at blocking out the thoughts I didn't want to deal with.

I was so focused on this plan that I wasn't paying attention as I climbed through the portrait hole, with the result that I crashed headlong into someone who was trying to exit. "Oh, sor—" I started, before the identity of my collision partner froze my voice.

A.J.'s expression flitted quickly through several emotions—surprise, anger, regret, apprehension—before finally settling on a carefully controlled indifference. I wondered briefly whether he'd been attempting to avoid me today as I was doing with James. Probably.

We just stared at each other for several moments, before A.J. finally said, "Hey."

"Er, hi," I replied, feeling my face start to redden. "Going down to breakfast, then?" I winced—was I honestly trying to make small talk with him? He was probably trying to work out the quickest way to get away from me, and if I had any decency at all, I should be helping him along with it, not detaining him with inane questions.

"Yes," A.J. answered succinctly, but made no move to continue past me, though we'd reached a perfectly acceptable parting point.

"Right, well . . . good," I said, now wishing he _would _just leave, because I was bound to say something incredibly stupid if he let me carry on. But he appeared to be waiting for something, so I just kept talking. "So, are you—" I stopped again, wondering what could possibly have possessed me to ask him whether he was all right. "I mean, do you . . . sorry for running into you just now," I blurted out, figuring that was a neutral and safe topic, if still of the small talk variety. "I wasn't looking where I was going. I mean, obviously—I wouldn't do something like that on purpose—but I was planning what homework would be the least torturous to start on, so I was a bit preoccupied, and then I was trying to remember everything I had to do this weekend so I could make that decision . . . and you can feel free to interrupt me at any time, before I make a complete dolt of myself. Unless that was your original intent, in which case, well done." It had belatedly occurred to me that perhaps A.J. was getting some sort of sadistic pleasure out of watching me squirm and fumble through our first post-break up encounter. Not that that was something he'd do, though I wouldn't begrudge him the prerogative to consider it.

"Of course it wasn't," A.J. said quietly. "To be perfectly honest, I had no intention of seeing you at all today. Or this week, if possible."

Even though I'd just admitted he had every right to act . . . less than friendly towards me, his words still stung. "Right," I said softly, and A.J. finally took his cue to turn away. Something pushed me to call out after him, and I was surprised when he actually looked around, rather than pretending he hadn't heard me. "I—I'm sorry. About everything." When A.J. opened his mouth, I shook my head to forestall him. "I know, you said you didn't want me to apologize. But I . . . I don't want things to . . . that is, I hope we can . . ." I didn't know how to convey what I wanted to say without sounding incredibly daft.

But A.J. caught onto it anyway. "Can still be friends?" he finished with a wry smile. "Maybe." And with that, he finally did walk away without looking back.

_Maybe—more than I was expecting, actually_. But it made me feel the slightest bit better about the past couple of days, because cliché as it was, I really did want to remain friends with A.J. I still liked him as a person, even though I couldn't date him. _I can live with 'maybe' for now,_ I decided as I closed the door to my Head dormitory minutes later. _One step at a time_.

**OOOOOOOO**

I quickly discovered that the quietness of my room allowed for far too much thinking, homework distractions notwithstanding. I'd barely written three sentences of my Charms essay, but I'd thought about James (unwillingly) at least ten times that number. Mary was right—I was going to go insane if I didn't talk to him, but the thought of it filled me with a fear that I was sure would be strong enough to keep me from doing so. Nevertheless, the last words he'd spoken to me were on replay in my head: _If you need a break, I'm sure I could use some company in detention this afternoon, Flower_. It wouldn't be hard to find him—I knew I could convince Sirius, Remus or Peter to let me borrow the Marauder's Map, though I might have a time of it convincing them to do it without my giving a concrete reason. Of course, I could probably just track down McGonagall as well, pretending I needed to speak to James about Head stuff. After all, that was apparently why James was in detention today instead of yesterday. And once I'd begun seriously considering acting on the idea, my imagination went into overdrive, though it somehow strayed far from any plans to actually talk with James. Instead, I found myself wondering what would happen if I marched straight into whatever room McGonagall had locked him up in, slammed the door, pushed James up against it, and—

That's where I would forcefully turn my mind back to homework; it would obey for a while, but then the cycle would start all over again. Finally, I abandoned my room in favor of the much livelier common room, the background noise proving effective against any unwelcome thoughts. After my location change, I was surprisingly productive. Despite the fact that I couldn't help glancing up almost constantly in anticipation of James's return, I still managed to finish my Transfiguration essay, work through the ten Arithmancy problems Epsilon had assigned, and make a good start on the Potions questions Slughorn had given us before he appeared. Pretending I wasn't acutely aware of his presence the minute he stepped through the portrait hole, I kept writing, though I was sure I'd have to cross it all out later, since it would likely make no sense. It didn't really matter, anyway, because I only had time for a few sentences before James threw himself down on the couch beside me without invitation. Not that he had reason to believe he needed one, of course.

"Merlin, I wish you _had_ broken me out of there, Flower," he muttered, closing his eyes as he leaned back against the couch. "Cleaning cauldrons for Slughorn—nearly bored me to death."

I made a noncommittal noise in the back of my throat, still acting as though I was intent on my homework.

James sat up, and I could see him looking at me out of the corner of my eye, but I didn't turn to face him. "Well, you _did _say it was an unfairly bestowed detention in the first place, after all." When I merely shrugged in response, James leaned forward slightly in an attempt to catch my eye. "Lily? Are you listening to me?"

Finally looking up, I said with a little sigh, "Yes, it'd be rather hard not to at this proximity, James. But as you've evidently failed to notice, I'm a bit busy at the moment."

"Why aren't you in the library? Or upstairs?"

_Because I keep having inappropriate fantasies about you,_ I thought, willing myself not to blush as my mind conjured up the same images I'd come down here to avoid. Aloud, I opted for the half-truth of, "Couldn't concentrate."

"But I thought you hated working in the common room," James pressed.

"Well, that's obviously not the case at the moment, is it?"

James frowned, then looked away from me again, leaning over the couch to grab the bookbag I hadn't seen him carry in. "All right, then—I was just curious," he began irritably. "Sorry to inconvenience you with my—"

I sighed again. "Stop it, James."

"Stop what?" he asked defensively.

"Acting all martyred, just because I happened to snap at you a little." I knew I was being horrible, but anger was always the easier emotion to deal with. "It's not like it's a rare occurrence."

"Merlin," James muttered. "This break up has really done you in, hasn't it?"

"This isn't about that," I said without thinking. Immediately, I wished I could take the words back, and I looked quickly at James to gauge his reaction. To me, I'd as good as confessed I fancied him, but luckily—or perhaps unluckily, from the way he was glaring at me—James didn't look suspicious in the least.

"Oh, so it's just about me, then, is it? Excellent," he said sarcastically.

I didn't answer right away, knowing this was my chance to tell him everything . . . but I couldn't do it, not with him looking so angry. _Though my confession might turn that around, _part of my mind whispered, a part that was abruptly silenced by my conviction of James's indifference on the matter. "No," I lied finally, "though after that comment about the break up 'doing me in,' I'm tempted to change that. It wouldn't kill you to try for a little sensitivity, would it?"

"It might," James replied, and when I shot him a look, he sighed, ruffling his hair in frustration. "All right, fine—why don't you just tell me what you want me to say, Lily, because apparently everything I come up with is wrong."

I sighed. "Nothing—I don't want you to say anything. And I didn't mean to snap at you before, I was just—" Sighing again, I finished, "Look, could you just . . . sit there quietly, and do your homework?"

Unexpectedly, James grinned at this. Throwing me a mocking salute, he grabbed his bag once more and started pulling books and parchment from it.

A reluctant smile tugged at my lips as I turned back to Potions.

"Well, you didn't order me to leave, at least, so I'm taking that as a good sign," James commented a moment later.

"Potter, I believe I remember telling you to be quiet," I said, but with much less severity than before.

"Right, sorry," he said, though I could hear the smile in his voice. The second round of silence only lasted a few minutes, however, before James spoke again. "I suppose I _should _have been a little more considerate—Mary did mention something about emotional distress."

I glanced up to find James smirking at me. "Again, amusement probably isn't the most intelligent reaction on your part, but I'll let it slide this time," I said dryly. "And I'm going to kill Mary," I grumbled as I resumed my writing.

James laughed, and we continued working in companionable silence. It was significantly longer this time before James started hesitantly, "If you . . . er, want to talk about . . . you know, anything—"

I snorted. "You don't want to talk about A.J. with me."

"Well, no," James admitted, grinning again. "But I could make an exception, if I had to. Since it's you."

I looked at him sharply, but of course there was nothing in his expression to suggest he'd meant anything significant by those words. I shouldn't have been expecting anything, because that only made it worse when I didn't find it. "No, I won't torture you with that," I said eventually.

"Kind of you, Evans."

"I do my best." Suddenly remembering something, I added, "Oh, here—before I forget." I reached for the pile of books on the table in front of me, extracting James's Transfiguration book from the stack and handing it to him.

"Oh, right—thanks," he said, and I willed myself not to look away as the exchange unwillingly brought back memories of two nights ago . . ._ Merlin, has it really only been that long?_

As I held his gaze, James's expression hardened slightly, before smoothing into a casual indifference. Momentarily thrown by the abrupt change, I broke eye contact, searching for something to say. "You know, wouldn't want to subject you to McGonagall's wrath and all that."

"Right," James repeated. Then, "Lily?" My head came up again at his serious tone. "I really don't want to do this essay."

That brought a surprised laugh to my lips. "Well, if you're thinking you can convince me to let you copy mine, I'll have you know that I don't condone cheating."

"Do you really think I could have gone through six and a half years of school with you and not know that?"

"No, but that wouldn't necessarily stop you from asking anyway."

"Well, you can't blame a bloke for trying, can you?"

"One could make the argument that I didn't give you the chance to try."

"You never really have, Flower," James teased.

I couldn't find an answer to that, not least because his words had once again unwittingly caused a stab of regret.

Some of it must have showed in my expression nonetheless, because James quickly backtracked. "I didn't—that wasn't a—I'll just go back to working in silence, shall I?"

I smiled, and James looked relieved. "Yes, that would probably be best."

**OOOOOOOO**

Normally, I would have been extremely thankful that James and I had fallen back into our normal friendship routine so easily, with only the barest hints of awkwardness over The Incident. And if things hadn't recently changed so drastically where my feelings towards James were concerned, this might have held true. But the problem was, I didn't want to be just friends anymore. After that afternoon in the common room, though, I couldn't help despairing that I'd let the opportunity to change that pass me by. The longer I put it off, the more out of the blue it would seem when (if) I eventually brought it up. Deep down, of course, I knew this was no excuse, but my cowardly side continued to win out as the weeks passed.

Nevertheless, and though it risked confronting the masochism issue again, I couldn't help being a little impressed with myself for how well I was able to hide everything when I was around James. With us thrown together almost constantly—between classes, Head duties, and rounds six nights a week—it should have been unbearably tortuous. Which in some ways, it was, but I managed to keep it contained enough that it went unnoticed by everyone except Mary. Even she might have missed it too, if it weren't for the fact that she was my oldest friend, and therefore knew exactly how I was feeling without needing any input on my end. Not that I didn't provide it absurdly often anyway—I had to vent somehow, and she was the only one I trusted to be on the receiving end.

When the next full moon rolled around, I welcomed the extra night away from James. Of course, if I'd known how it would end, I'd have gladly endured two hours alone with him.

As I started off on my own promptly at eight, I couldn't believe it had been a whole month since the beginning of everything. Really, it had begun before James even entered the scene that night, when I'd invited A.J. along on rounds with me, and we'd fought about not fighting. I smiled wryly at the memory. I hadn't seen much of my ex-boyfriend since our awkward initial post-break up encounter, but since we were in different years, it wasn't necessarily because we'd been avoiding each other. I, for one, hadn't had enough free space in my mind to concentrate on something as complicated as dodging him. I was much more willing to bet that A.J. did, though. I knew I owed him the right to keep his distance, if that's what he wanted, but I hadn't changed my mind about staying friends. I took it as a good sign that he still greeted me in passing; hopefully, things would slowly improve from there.

After I'd exhausted the subject of A.J., I spent the remainder of rounds trying not to think, an oblivion I could certainly use. However, not thinking is a nearly impossible feat, and I found myself alternating between thinking of James and forcing myself not to for the next hour. Ultimately, my efforts were doomed to failure, because it so happened that just as I was doing a final sweep of the Entrance Hall, the very subject of my tortured thoughts appeared at the front doors. It wasn't at a full sprint, as he'd done a month ago when McGonagall caught him out after hours. In fact, he wasn't even upright. Instead Sirius and Peter were carrying him, unconscious and bleeding, across the flagstone floor.

**

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A/N: Well, I did warn you.**


	35. All For You

**A/N: All righty, first, I want to apologize for the delay in this chapter! The short explanation is, my computer got a virus last weekend, and then my internet was shut off on Wednesday b/c apparently my most recent payment didn't go through….yeah, I'm still fighting that one. But I'm in Barnes and Noble right now taking advantage of their free wi-fi so I can bring you lovely people an update! (and to watch Glee) I apologize especially to those of you who just found the story this week—there seemed to be quite a number of you—because it must have sucked to get all the way through only to be blindsided by my evil cliffhanger! But I am making it up to everyone with an extra long chapter and some cute L/J moments…*hopeful smile**

**Anyway, on to the thank you's, though first can I just say 93 REVIEWS! To the awesome people who made that happen: Olivia, (you're welcome, for the LaT rec!), UltimateLoveStorys, Meeeee (er, no, I didn't know what that meant…but I googled it, and now I do—does that count?), Elizabeththecrazy, kaitou angel, Tarantallegra, Ilovebooks-1227, Gwarpy, Marinewife08, ZoneSystems (don't apologize dear—I realize that sometimes all of you have lives….unlike me, haha), tiamat100, RidingonRumbleroar'sback (I fully support this name change ;)), SecretBlack (I had a major P&P reference moment with your review, the 'compassion on my poor nerves' part—I have complete respect for them, they've been my constant companion these many years—if you haven't read/seen it, that won't make sense but….yeah), Oriel Subtle, wonder-white-rabbit, weasleywannabee3 (no, not planning on dying!), freefallingx19, Penflyer (I think I can make that happen), silk399, StEpHiElOvEsLoGaNdRaKe (wow that was hard to type!), quest4candy (no, you are fully welcome to a place in the "I Hate A.J. Club"), Miss larien, blissedoutvixen, maximum destined potter (oh sorry—yes, Prime Minister it is, then!), BrokenFaerie16, alicenotinwonderland (you're welcome, and since they'll hopefully be done by the time you read this, hope your exams went well!), Abi, vampire5596, weaselytwins12, iKKxLee52, Blinkdawg, DarlinILoveYou, viva gal, junebugbug96 (clutter away, my dear, clutter away ;)), arelli-black (excellent! I'm glad it worked out!), Dancethroughlife, Elizabeth Lullaby, skazmi, Omgomgomgomgomgomg (haha), existence555, Evisawesome, uhhhhwellll, swishflick, MinisterKingsley (glad someone got that reference, haha), MissArtemisFowl, Hurricane Rachel (love the Princess Bride!), MaryandMerlin (okay, okay, I'm on it!), .x, Litira, merlincrazy, jjxlea123, OttoIsMyDog, ErinFabu, GriffinRose, 97chuckles, RavenSoulSister, livibug, Taylorcutie, pinkcatheaven, SokkasFirstFangirl, zaurora, jak23, emotionsonhold, Iwannabeamarader2010, TeenTypist, teteeee (nope, never seen it sorry!), Can't we just be death eaters, Jenn222, Tribot, Tabbycat270, seriouslyblak, Lucius Malloy, WobblyJelly, cheerstar, fisforphenomenal, Kyori Uchiha of the Sand, summersrain, movinggirl (wow, that is high praise indeed, thanks!), MaCherieLoup2416, Menolly Harper, ISolemnlySwearIAmUpToNoGood (yes, lilyandjames53, now RidingonRumbleroar'sback—you're friends? Crazy connections…love 'em!), Orange-Coyote, ShannyC1901, Elless, PoseidonsLittleGirl, Alice Demer, theycallherkaush, xLycheeRAiN, and Starr Cullen!**

**Also, just to clarify, I'm not actually SEEING DH in London—you have to actually be someone important to do that….but I will be at the red carpet stuff!**

**And I know some of you expressed concerns that this will turn into one of those Lily-distressed-at-James's-death-bed-confesses-her-undying-love cheesy things….it won't be ;) At least, I hope it doesn't come across like that.**

**

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Previously:**

_ After I'd exhausted the subject of A.J., I spent the remainder of rounds trying not to think, an oblivion I could certainly use. However, not thinking is a nearly impossible feat, and I found myself alternating between thinking of James and forcing myself not to for the next hour. Ultimately, my efforts were doomed to failure, because it so happened that just as I was doing a final sweep of the Entrance Hall, the very subject of my tortured thoughts appeared at the front doors. It wasn't at a full sprint, as he'd done a month ago when McGonagall caught him out after hours. In fact, he wasn't even upright. Instead Sirius and Peter were carrying him, unconscious and bleeding, across the flagstone floor._

**

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Chapter 34: All For You**

I was across the Hall before I'd made a conscious decision to move my feet, my eyes drawn to James's pale face and the dark stain on the left side of his robes . . . Forcing myself to look away, I glanced frantically between Sirius and Peter, both of whom had barely acknowledged my presence. "What happened? Did Remus—is he—"

"Scratched, not bitten," Sirius answered succinctly as he shouldered through a door near the entrance to the dungeons, where he and Peter lowered James gently onto the stone floor.

I followed, relief flooding through me at Sirius's words. But my panic returned in full measure as he pulled James's robes open to reveal the dark red stain beneath. Sirius quickly cut through James's shirt with his wand, and I fought a wave of nausea at the sight of the torn and bloodied flesh that appeared as the fabric fell open. But I could see that Sirius was right—they were claw, and not bite, marks that ran from just above James's navel down to his left hip.

Sirius and Peter hardly flinched at the gruesome sight; they immediately directed their wands simultaneously at the injury. Watching the skin begin to knit itself back together, I asked again in a slightly shaky voice, "What happened?"

His healing spell complete, Sirius sat back with a sigh. "Remus was bad tonight," he said abruptly, and my mind conjured up the absurd image of him scolding a naughty child. James's words came back to me, though—_sometimes Remus is more wolf-ish than others, harder to control_—and I knew that was Sirius's true meaning. "And normally we'd just call it a night right then, not risk it . . . but it happened last month too, and I . . . leaving him in the Shack always feels like we've failed him, somehow, so . . . so I convinced James and Peter to go anyway.

"And it was fine, at first—Moony actually seemed like he was . . . better, like maybe it would be okay, but . . . well, I didn't really see what happened, just one second Prongs was there, and the next he was lying unconscious on the ground, human again and bleeding all over. 'Course, I had a job getting Remus away from him, but I bloody well wasn't going to let him . . ." He sighed heavily. "Anyway, he's off in the Forest somewhere now."

In the silence that followed, the three of us looked down at James, still unconscious, his skin so pale it was almost grey. Unexpectedly, Peter broke the silence with, "It's not your fault, Padfoot."

Sirius looked up at him. "Thanks, Pete," he said quietly, though his expression suggested he didn't believe Peter's words. Abruptly, he added, "You've got the cloak, right?"

In answer, Peter pulled the silvery invisibility cloak from the pocket of his jacket.

"Right," Sirius said, suddenly business-like as he stood and took the cloak from his friend. "I've got to get some—"

Suddenly, James woke with a gasp. Sirius dropped to his knees, grabbing his friend's arms as James started to flail wildly, his eyes wide and terrified. "Prongs, look at me—look at me!" Sirius commanded. James's eyes snapped to his, and Sirius continued, "We've got you—you're all right." His voice shook slightly on the last word, but James's face relaxed, and Sirius loosened his grip on James's arms.

Suddenly, as though his mind finally caught up with his physical injuries, James's face contorted in pain, and an odd sort of spasm went through his body. Breathing in short gasps, he asked, "What . . . happened?"

Sirius looked away, and Peter answered slowly, "We're not—neither of us really saw anything, Prongs."

"I remember . . . Remus," James said. "And he—" But he broke off again, eyes closed and lips pressed together as though holding in a cry of pain.

Looking down at his wounds, I let out a horrified gasp. The skin was peeling apart again; it was as though time were reversing. Before I could say anything, Sirius said shortly, "Werewolf-inflicted injuries are cursed—they don't heal normally." He stood again, holding out his hand to Peter, who passed him the invisibility cloak. "Right, you two stay here—I'll be right back."

"Wait!" I said. Turning back to James, who seemed to only have just realized I was there, I added, "James, tell him it wasn't his fault." Because I knew hearing it from his best mate was the only way Sirius would believe it.

James pushed himself up slightly on one elbow and somehow managed a grin. "Padfoot, you're an idiot," he declared.

"_James_," I started in exasperation, until I saw Sirius grinning back.

"Thanks, mate," he said, and with that, he threw on the cloak and was gone.

As soon as the door shut behind him, James collapsed onto the ground again, pressing the already blood-soaked end of his shirt against the freshly bleeding slashes in his side. He was digging the fingers of his other hand into the floor, and without thinking, I reached out and grabbed his hand. I regretted it instantly, biting my lip as James's fingers closed in a death grip around mine. But I didn't have long to endure it—James's eyes rolled back a moment later as he fainted again, and his hand dropped from mine.

Flexing my fingers to regain feeling in them, I looked worriedly at Peter.

"Help me heal him again," he said, taking out his wand.

I complied with the request, trying to steady my hand as I directed my wand at James's side. "They'll . . . you know, _stay _healed eventually, won't they?"

Peter nodded. "And it'll be faster with two of us . . . at least, it has been before, but none of us have ever had anything as bad as this. But he'll be fine," he added hurriedly, after catching sight of my stricken expression.

I sat back, pulling my knees to my chest and resting my chin on top of them. "Where did Sirius go?" I asked after a while.

"Hospital Wing," Peter explained. "For healing potions and stuff."

"Can't you just—I mean, do you have to steal it? Madame Pomfrey knows about Remus, doesn't she?"

"But if she found out he attacked one of his mates, it might lead to awkward questions," Sirius answered from behind me. I turned to see him pulling off the invisibility cloak, several bottles of various shapes and colors tucked under one arm.

Kneeling beside James, he unstoppered the first one and poured a bit of it over James's freshly healed cuts. It didn't make any difference that I could see, but I decided not to question Sirius's knowledge. As Peter had said, they'd done this countless times before. The contents of the second bottle smoked slightly upon contact with James's skin, and I looked quickly at Sirius to see if this was normal. He was concentrating on opening a third bottle, however, and I took this to mean the smoke wasn't anything to fuss about, counterintuitive as that may seem. Sirius spread the thick, yellow paste from the third bottle gently over James's skin, and finished it off by wrapping a clean bandage around his middle. Looking at Peter once he'd finished, he asked, "Ready?" Peter nodded, and Sirius turned to me. "We've got to get Remus back in the Shrieking Shack—apart from not wanting him to wake up tomorrow in the middle of the Forest, his absence from the Shack—"

"—would also lead to awkward questions?" I suggested.

Sirius smiled grimly at me. "Exactly. I'll leave the cloak with you—no listen," he insisted, when I started to object. "If James wakes up before we get back—it's likely that he will, since I have no idea how long it'll take to find Remus—you can use it to get him back to the dormitory."

"What about you two?"

Sirius shrugged. "We'll make it back."

"I'll come down and meet you after I've gotten James upstairs."

"Nah, Lily, you don't have to—"

"It's no big deal—not like I'll sleep tonight anyway."

We exchanged a brief smile, then Sirius said, "All right—let's go, Wormtail. And Lily, please don't get caught."

"Just because I'm not a Marauder doesn't mean I don't understand the art of subtlety," I retorted primly.

Sirius grinned again, and then he and Peter left the room.

Letting out a long sigh, I returned to watching James. Despite knowing that he would—eventually—recover from this, I couldn't help the anxiety that continued to churn in my stomach. It wasn't just James's physical injuries that were worrying . . . what would Remus do when he found out what had happened? I dreaded to think how he'd take the news, because I knew he'd blame himself, and probably for a long time. Undoubtedly, he'd try to convince the others to stop their monthly escapades—and frankly, I couldn't say I wouldn't be on his side for that one—but there was no way he'd succeed. In short, the four Marauders were probably facing a long couple of days.

I absently reached out to brush James's hair from his sweaty forehead. Then, not knowing what else to do, I took his hand again, tracing small circles on the back of it with my thumb. After a bit, James let out a low moan, his eyelids fluttering open again. Spotting me, he grinned slowly. "You're sure a sight for sore eyes, Evans," he said, voice scratchy.

I frowned at him. "I'm not in the mood for flirting, Potter," I said sternly, wishing he knew how true that really was. In agreeing to forget about the night he'd nearly kissed me, James and I had returned to the relationship we'd had at the beginning of seventh year, which, yes, included intermittent and teasing flirting on his end.

"Right, sorry," he said, pushing himself up into a sitting position, wincing as he did so. "I suppose it's not really my eyes that are sore, anyway."

That brought a smile to my lips. "No, I'd imagine not. How—how are you feeling, then?"

"Why, worried about me?"

I hit the shoulder on his uninjured side lightly. "Of course I am, you stupid prat." Standing, I offered my hand to James. "Though if you can make jokes, you can't be too near death."

"Never underestimate my joking abilities, Flower," James said, taking my proffered hand and letting me help him to his feet. He grimaced as he straightened, almost immediately putting a hand on my shoulder to prop himself up. "Sorry," he muttered to me.

"Don't apologize—do you think you can walk?" I pulled his hand around to my other shoulder so that his weight was spread more evenly across them. "Because we should probably get you to bed."

"Is that an invitation?"

I tilted my head to glare up at him. "Just because you are injured doesn't mean I'll let you get away with that. I am not above abandoning you here, James."

"Okay, okay, I'll stop. I promise," he added when I continued to watch him with narrowed eyes.

After I'd pulled the invisibility cloak awkwardly around us, gathered the potions Sirius had nicked from the Hospital Wing, and we'd started to make our slow way back to Gryffindor Tower, I realized James's pain would force him to keep his promise. His breath was soon coming in short gasps, and when I chanced a look at his face, it was contorted in a permanent grimace. "We're almost there," I said quietly, and even though it was far from true, I kept up a stream of encouragement until we reached the common room.

James stopped at the base of the boys' stairs. "No way," he panted, "I can't . . ."

"Yes you bloody well can, James Potter," I said through gritted teeth—he was leaning almost all his weight on my shoulders now, and Merlin, the boy was heavy! "You just climbed seven flights of stairs, so you can sure as hell make it up a few more!"

James met my determined glare with raised eyebrows. "All right," he said, his voice stronger, though still a little breathless. "No need be so touchy. I'm the one who's hurt, after all."

"Just get up the damn stairs, Potter."

We finally reached James's room, and as soon as we were close enough, he pulled his arm from my shoulders and collapsed on the bed. I fell into his desk chair, and for nearly a minute the only sound to be heard was our heavy breathing.

When I'd recovered a normal breathing rate, I sat up and began sorting through Hospital Wing potions. The three Sirius had used on James were unlabelled, and I shook my head slightly upon discovering this. _I hope he bloody knows what he's doing_, I thought, though there was no doubt in my mind that he'd exercised his little-used caution in selecting them, considering the situation. The third bottle was dittany, which I knew wasn't a very strong healing potion, especially considering James's were cursed wounds—probably the reason it was as yet unused. According to its label, the final bottle contained a strong sleeping potion, and I kept it in my grasp as I stood and approached James's bed. His eyes were closed, but he cracked one eyelid as I neared him.

"You're taking this," I informed him, holding out the sleeping potion.

Squinting at the label, James let out a sigh. "I hate that stuff—makes me all disoriented and groggy when I wake up—"

"James," I started warningly.

"I'm going to take it," he cut in hurriedly, taking the bottle from my hand. "I was merely commenting on my distaste for its after-effects, not—"

"Would you just drink it, for Merlin's sake? Honestly, you're much easier to deal with when you're passed out."

James grinned, uncorked the bottle, and tilted it to his lips. As he drank, I glanced down at his bandages, frowning as I noticed the small red stain darkening them. The cuts had obviously opened again during our trek up to the tower. As I reached to remove the bandage, however, James pushed my hand away. "S'okay," he said, his speech already starting to slur as the potion worked its magic. "Just let 'em bleed for a while."

I rolled my eyes. "Yes, that seems logical," I said sarcastically.

James just grinned again, though he was blinking heavily at me. Suddenly, his expression became serious. "Lily," he started.

"Yes?"

"I know I said—but I didn't—" James tried, obviously fighting the sleep that was threatening to overwhelm him.

"You can tell me later," I assured him, but he just shook his head.

"No, you don't—you're—" But whatever I was, I didn't know, because James succumbed to the potion's effects at last, sinking back onto his pillows, his breathing becoming slow and deep at last.

Suddenly highly aware of my own exhaustion, I wanted nothing more than to fall into a bed myself. For a brief moment, I entertained the absurd idea of simply curling up next to James. I mean, he was in a magically-induced sleep, so he'd never know, right? But my practical side soon regained control of my impulses, and I shook myself mentally, casting around for something else to focus on. My eyes fell on James's freshly bloodied bandages again, and with him safely unconscious, I began to carefully unwrap them.

Bracing myself as they finally fell away, I was relieved to find that James's injuries didn't look nearly as horrible as they had earlier. Quickly healing them again with my wand, I debated for a moment before choosing the yellow paste from Sirius's collection and spreading it over the area again. As the first potion had seemed useless and the smoking of the second unnerved me, this was the one I felt most comfortable applying. With that finished, I rewrapped the bandaging so that the bloodied area was hidden in the layers and stood back to criticize my work. I bit my lip, torn between returning to the Entrance Hall with the cloak as I'd promised Sirius and an irrational reluctance to leave James's side.

Finally working out a solution of sorts, I whispered 'be right back' to James—which was ridiculous, I know, because he couldn't hear me—stuffed the invisibility cloak into a pocket of my robes, and hurried down the boys' dormitory staircases. Seconds later, I was easing open the door of my old dormitory, letting the breath I'd been holding out in a whoosh as I discovered all three of my former dorm mates were fast asleep.

Attempting to keep my footsteps light, I carefully navigated my way to Mary's bedside. Pulling open her bed curtains, I leaned down to shake her gently. "Mary," I whispered, "wake up."

Emerging slowly from sleep, my best friend blinked owlishly up at me. Finally registering my presence, she sat up quickly, worry wrinkling her brow. "Lily, what are you doing here? Are you all right?"

"Yes, I'm fine," I replied softly. "I can't really explain here—or, I'd rather not, anyway; can we go downstairs?"

Mary nodded, and the two of us exited the dormitory as quietly as I'd come. Down in the dimly lit common room, Mary turned to me in confusion. "What's going—is that _blood_?" Her voice rose shrilly on the last word as she snatched up a handful of my robes.

Wincing at the dark patch I hadn't noticed earlier, I was quick to explain. "Yes, but it's not mine. Listen—" And I gave her a hurried summary of the night's events. When I finished Mary's blue eyes were wide with anxiety.

"Is he—Merlin, I can't believe—so what do you want me to do?"

"I told Sirius and Peter I'd bring the cloak back down to them," I explained, fishing in my pocket for the object in question. "But I was wondering if you might—it'd be a huge favor, I know, but I . . . I'd rather stay with James." I said this last bit in a rush, trying to force down the heat that was threatening to rise in my cheeks.

If Mary found this a ridiculous statement—and I would have had every sympathy with her if she did—she was wise enough not to say so. "Of course," she said, taking the cloak from me. "Entrance Hall, right?" She shook her head, continuing with a small smile, "Well, obviously—how else would they get back in?"

"You might not want to know the answer to that question," I muttered.

"Right—well, anything else I can do?"

"No, we're—no," I said. "Thank you for this, Mary; I owe you one."

Smiling again, Mary nodded. "Sure."

I watched her disappear through the portrait hole before taking the steps two at a time back to James's room, smiling slightly as I entered. In the small amount of time I'd been gone, he'd somehow managed to sprawl across his entire mattress, right leg hanging off the side and left arm thrown over his head. A slight frown creased his brow, and I automatically reached down to smooth it out. His skin felt hot, and I wondered if I should be worried. Finally deciding that if James were awake, he'd tell me I worry too much for my own good—and he'd be right—I pulled his desk chair up to the bed and collapsed into it. _I'm not going to sleep at all tonight, _I thought ruefully.

**OOOOOOOO**

An indeterminate amount of time later, I woke up in bed. My first sensation was that of fingers moving lightly down my arm. Figuring this must have been what woke me, I made a noise of protest and snuggled deeper into my pillow. Except it wasn't a pillow, as I realized a few moments later. And my hand wasn't resting against my blankets, but on a very bare, and very male, chest.

My eyes flew open, and I sat up so quickly I nearly toppled off the bed.

"Careful, Evans," James muttered, and I looked down to see he still had his eyes closed. "I've been fatally wounded, remember."

"How d-did I—" I started frantically, heat rushing to my face. "I mean, what am I—when—" I pushed myself off the bed, stumbling slightly before straightening up. James cracked an eyelid at me. "Sorry," I added quickly.

Both eyes open now, James slowly pushed himself into a sitting position, grinning crookedly at me. "Don't apologize, Flower."

I started around to the other side of the bed, but stopped abruptly at the foot of it. "Hang on," I said, frowning. "I started off on the _other _side of you, so that meant I had to get up, walk all the way around the bed, and—for Merlin's sake, how could I possibly have done that without even remembering it?"

James looked highly amused now. "Well, it was kind of you to think of it, anyway," he said, gesturing to his bandages. I'd moved over to his right, uninjured side, evidently thanks to the fact that my unconscious self had been watching out for James's comfort. But why I'd _climbed into bed _with him in the first place . . . Blushing, if possible, even harder, I continued on around the bed and settled myself firmly back in the chair where I _bloody should have stayed _all night.

"Sorry," I said again, not knowing what else to say.

"Really, Evans, you don't need to apologize," James said.

"Well, I don't understand how I—I mean, who knows what else I've done all year without knowing it!"

James laughed. "This is the first time I've woken up with you in my bed, if that makes you feel better."

"Oh, yeah, loads," I muttered. "What time is it, anyway?"

James craned his neck to look at the clock beside his bed. "Three thirty-four," he answered.

I wrinkled my nose. "I should get back to my room."

"You could just stay here," James suggested, grinning again. "I mean, who knows what sort of bloke might have wandered into your bed by now."

I glared at him. "You should know that I'm refraining from hitting you right now because of that," I said, pointing at his injury. "But my self-control is slipping rapidly, so . . . just watch it, all right?"

James quirked an eyebrow. "Consider me forewarned, though perhaps not sufficiently."

Shaking my head, I smiled in spite of myself. "All right, well, I really should be going, unexpected bed guests be damned."

"Well, you know I'll be the best you ever had, Evans."

"Yes, it's all downhill from here, I'm afraid," I said dryly, standing. "Good night, James," I added, starting for the door.

"See you in a few hours," he replied from behind me.

I turned around again, frowning. "Why?"

"For breakfast," James said slowly, smiling slightly again. When I continued to simply stare at him, he continued, "You know, happens first thing in the morning, you usually have eggs with salt but no pepper, buttered toast, and maybe a sausage or two . . ."

"You know my breakfast?"

James sighed. "I've only eaten it with you for—"

"But why would you even bother going?" I interrupted. "I'm sure you could bully Sirius or Peter into bringing you something—or if they won't, _I'll _bring you—"

"Well, I figured I might as well just go, it's only an extra hour or so anyway . . ."

"Wait, you're not going to class, are you?"

Now James was frowning as well. "Why wouldn't I?"

"Oh, I don't know," I said sarcastically. "Maybe because you almost got _killed _last night!"

James's frown deepened into a glare. "I was not almost—"

"Well, either way, you're not exactly in a fit state to be waltzing around the castle!"

"And I'm not about to let Remus take the fall for everything!"

That brought me up short. "What are you—what?"

"If I don't show up for class tomorrow, what are people going to think?"

"Oh, yes, because their first thought is _clearly_ going to be that you got mauled by a werewolf who happens to be sitting in Charms with the rest of us! For Merlin's sake, James, we'll spread it around that you're sick or something, just don't—"

"Even though I seemed perfectly fine yesterday?"

I made a strangled noise of frustration, wanting to march back over to the bed and shake him. "So it came on suddenly! I really don't think we're going to have trouble getting people to believe that!"

James crossed his arms over his chest. "If there's even the slightest chance that it'll cause suspicion—_which there is_—I can't do it."

We stared at each other for several long seconds, until I finally let out a defeated sigh. "You're impossible, do you know that? And an idiot."

James grinned. "Like I said, see you in a few hours, Lily."

"Yes, fine—see you," I said, and James's amused chuckle followed me onto the landing outside his room. Shaking my head again, I trudged down the stairs. I was soon brought up short, however, by someone ascending in the other direction.

"We've really got to stop meeting like this, Lily," A.J. said sardonically.

_Honestly, of all the people I could have run into right now_ . . . "Er, this isn't what it looks like—" I started.

"Really? So you're telling me you _haven't _moved on that quickly?"

I winced at the blunt accusation. Because in all reality, I _had _moved on that quickly—James had been the reason we'd broken up, after all. But the fact that things had yet to go beyond my own cowardly hidden wishes and desires . . . well, it certainly didn't look that way now, did it? "We just . . . just got caught up doing homework," I invented.

"Until four in the morning?" A.J. questioned skeptically.

"Well, I fell asleep," I said, which was true.

"Where, in James's bed?"

Unfortunately, that was also true, and I knew the instant flush that colored my cheeks gave it away.

A.J. snorted softly. "Look, I know I don't have a claim on you or anything, but that doesn't mean I would have _chosen _to find out like this . . . I'd have preferred waiting for it to trickle down the rumor mill, at least."

He began to move past me, but I grabbed his arm. "A.J., nothing . . . like that, happened. I promise."

"And you never lie, right?" A.J. said wryly.

With no way to respond to that, I dropped his arm, starting slowly down the stairs again once he'd shut himself back in his dormitory. Belatedly, I wondered what _he'd _been doing up at four, but it didn't really matter, because I'd made a royal mess of everything anyway. _So much for being friends_.

**OOOOOOOO**

The next morning, I ran into Mary on my way into the common room. She'd successfully rendezvoused with Sirius and Peter last night, and I was glad to hear they'd gotten Remus safely back to the Shrieking Shack. However, Mary's interest in the matter was quickly overruled when I told her about rest of my night.

"In his _bed_?" she burst out when I reached that particular detail.

"Don't say it so loud! I'd rather the whole of Gryffindor tower _not_ hear about it, thanks."

Mary laughed. "But it's—Lily, how slaggish of you; I'm proud."

I glared into her grinning face. "Of course—I'm apparently the only one who's not amused by the whole thing. Oh, but you haven't heard the best part yet."

Mary raised an eyebrow. "How could it get better? What, did you finally shag him?"

I slugged her arm. "No, you know I wouldn't—no! I'll have you know I left almost immediately for my _own bed_. Except I ran into A.J. on my way there."

Mary's grin slipped a bit. "Oh. And?"

"And what? I mean, think about how it looked."

My friend winced. "Not good?"

"No, not good at all." I sighed. "But that's that, I guess."

"Well, you never know, maybe . . . maybe he'll . . ."

I raised an eyebrow. "Yes?"

It was Mary's turn to sigh. "I don't know."

"Yeah, me neither."

**OOOOOOOO**

Mary skipped out of breakfast early, needing to finish up some last minute homework. I was only alone at the table for a few minutes, however, before I was joined by a tired and grumpy-looking James. As he slumped down across from me, I greeted him with a bright smile and an annoyingly chipper, "Morning, sunshine."

James glared at me. "How are you so awake?" he muttered.

"Oh, I'm not, really—I'm just better at faking it than you apparently are."

"What happened to 'almost getting killed last night'?"

"Well, you were quick to argue against that one, so—"

"So I must be perfectly fine, is that it?"

I winced slightly at that. "No, of course not—I'm sorry. How are you?"

"Eh, I've been better. Plus, my bed was really cold after you left, and I just couldn't seem to get comfortable—"

"Knew I apologized too soon," I muttered, and James laughed.

"Oh, I meant to ask you," he continued a moment later, after he'd piled his plate with eggs and waffles. "Any ideas for why Rookie looked ready to hex my arm off when I ran into him this morning?"

"Really?" I asked, trying not to grimace as my voice came out higher than usual. "No, I have no idea why he—"

"Lily," James said, and when I glanced up at him, he was smirking at me. "Yes you do."

"I hate that you can read me so well," I grumbled. Trying to decide the best way to begin, I finally settled on, "Er, so, A.J. might have, you know, been coming up the stairs as I was leaving your room last night."

James raised his eyebrows. "What the hell was he doing up at four in the morning?"

"Not _really _the important detail here, Potter."

"No, you're right, I'm sorry," he said, but I could have sworn his lips were twitching slightly. "So . . . wait, he didn't think . . ." James trailed off suspiciously.

I rolled my eyes. "Of course that's what he thought, you dolt! What was he supposed to think?"

"But we didn't . . . I mean, you told him that nothing happened, right?"

"Yes, but we conveniently had a fight not long before we broke up about how he always takes everything I say for granted, and I stupidly argued that he shouldn't because I lie someti—" I stopped abruptly, because James was definitely grinning now. "You're just incredibly amused by all of this, aren't you?"

"Mmm, possibly," he said.

"You're a terrible friend, James."

Before he could defend himself—not that he _had _a defense, in my opinion—Sirius appeared behind him, looking slightly harassed. "Prongs, I need you," he announced.

"Aw, Padfoot, I thought you'd never admit it," James replied, turning to his friend with a grin.

I knew something was up when Sirius ignored the joke. "Moony's being an idiot about everything. I've tried to talk to him, but I don't think he's—"

"Right," James cut in with a sigh, no longer looking amused. "Why he insists on being so difficult all the time, I'll never know." Turning back to me, he added, "Well, I've got to go deal with my dolt of a mate, so—"

"Actually, it might not be a bad idea for you to come as well, Lily," Sirius said, acknowledging me for the first time. "You're good at all that . . . logic and . . . rationalizing, er . . . stuff."

"You mean thinking?" I offered dryly.

Sirius grinned. "That's the one." And with that, he turned and started out of the Great Hall, leaving James and I to follow him.

As James swung his legs over the bench and stood, a grimace passed over his face and a hiss of pain escaped his lips. I hurried around the end of the table, frowning up at him as we started towards the doors. "You're hiding it, aren't you?" I accused.

James looked at me in confusion. "Hiding what?"

"Your pain," I said, hurrying on when I saw James's lips quirk up briefly, "and don't think you're going to get away with making some flippant remark and then letting it drop, because I saw you wince just now."

The amused smile hinted at before was now fully apparent on his face. "Ah, it appears I've been had. Damn my telling wince."

My glare deepened. "I'm serious, James—how much does it hurt? And don't you dare lie to me because of—of _pride_, or something stupid."

James's smile dropped off his face as he let out a long sigh. "It hurts like hell," he finally said bluntly.

Feeling even worse now for teasing him earlier, I continued insistently, "You shouldn't go to class—no, don't argue, Potter; honestly, what happened to skipping class at least once a month because it was 'healthy'? No one would even bat an eye if you weren't there!"

"I'd like to think I'd be missed a little, at least," James said, adopting an injured air.

"James," I said warningly, "I swear to Merlin, I'm _this _close to dragging you back to Gryffindor tower, stealing your wand, and tying you to your bed so you'll—"

"Only if you tie yourself up with me, Flower," James said.

I turned abruptly to face him, blocking his way forward. James's eyebrows shot up to his hairline and he took a quick step back. "Stop it," I ordered. "Just—stop. This isn't something to joke about, and I'm not going to let you kill yourself just because you're too stubborn about Remus for your own good—"

"I'm all right, Lily, really—" James tried to protest.

"And I told you at the beginning of the year to _quit it _with the flirting, but not once have you listened to me!" I hadn't really meant to say this last bit, but it was true that I wished he wouldn't do it, because each time he did was another painful reminder that it'd never be real.

Looking completely taken aback, James opened and closed his mouth several times before finally speaking. "I didn't mean to—"

But I didn't want to hear his apologies or excuses. "Just forget it," I muttered, moving towards the marble staircase. "Let's go see Remus."

We covered the rest of the distance to the Hospital Wing in silence, me (as usual) already regretting losing my temper, but (also as usual) not looking forward to the necessary apology. Upon entering Madame Pomfrey's domain, the scene that greeted us struck me as oddly comical. Sirius and Peter were standing on either side of Remus's hospital bed, the former looking fiercely determined and the latter nervous but resolute. Remus looked absolutely furious, which more than made up for his seemingly harmless position propped up by his pillows.

"This feels like an intervention," I commented quietly to James as we approached the group, all three of whom had yet to notice our presence. I hoped that breaking the silence would hint at a truce, and was rewarded when James grinned over his shoulder at me.

Sirius was the first to look over at us. "Took you bloody long enough," he said, frowning.

Remus's expression only became angrier upon spotting James. He glanced briefly at me as well, but when I tried to smile at him, he looked away again.

"So, what seems to be the problem, Moony?" James started pleasantly.

"If you're going to stand there and _joke _about this, James, I will hex you out of this ward," Remus threatened.

James cocked an eyebrow quickly at me, smirking as I flushed slightly. "All right, there's no need for threats," he said to Remus. "Just calm d—"

"I am not going to calm down!" Remus shouted, and I glanced nervously towards Madame Pomfrey's office, but the matron seemed not to have heard Remus's outburst.

"Don't—don't you think you could just listen to—" Peter started hesitantly.

"Listen to what?" Remus cut in derisively. "All of you telling me that it wasn't my fault? That it wasn't 'me' who did it? Because it bloody well was me! And I don't care if you claim to have known the risks when we started all of this, or any other damn rubbish you can come up with, because we're done!"

The other three exchanged glances; all four seemed to have forgotten I was there. "I thought we had something special, Moony," James said, a smile tugging at his lips again. "You're not saying you don't want to be friends anymore, are you?"

Remus snorted. "No, of course I'm not saying that—don't be an idiot—"

"Well, I can't always help that, I'm afraid—"

"Which I rather think is his point," Sirius added. "But you knew we were all idiots when you agreed to be friends with us, Moony—"

"You make it sound like we forced him to sign some sort of contract," James said.

"Apparently we should have, then we could have avoided ridiculous scenes like this—"

"I'm not kidding about this," Remus interrupted. "You lot are not coming out on full moons anymore."

"Oh, but we are, though," Sirius said, nodding.

"Black, if you think—"

"He's using surnames; I think he's serious, Padfoot," James muttered to his best mate. In a louder voice, he added to Remus, "You're going to have quite a time trying to enforce that, Moony. You'd have to tie us up, steal our wands, and throw the invisibility cloak over us so no one could find us. Oh, and take the Map, too, for the same purpose."

"Don't give him any ideas, Prongs," Sirius whispered insistently.

There was a beat of silence, in which Remus looked between his three friends in frustration, until Peter suddenly added, "You can't stop us, Moony."

As though this were the final word, Remus slumped back against his pillows in resigned defeat. He sat up again almost immediately, unexpectedly addressing me. "Lily, can't you talk sense into them?"

I raised my eyebrows. "I believe you're under some mistaken impression that I have that power, Remus. Honestly, they're going to keep doing their Animagus bit, with or without your permission. And although I agree with you that it's completely idiotic, Peter's right—you're not going to stop them. Which I think you knew all along, anyway." I smiled slightly as I finished, and though Remus didn't return it, his face relaxed noticeably and his eyes lost their fierce look.

"Knew we were friends with her for a reason," Sirius said fondly.

**OOOOOOOO**

After our fairly eventful morning, classes seemed to drag by. Of course, that might have been due to the fact that I kept glancing at James to see how he was holding up. Naturally, I couldn't tell if he was regretting his decision to ignore my advice, though he would have denied it to the grave even if he was. As it was, I'd looked round at him so often by the end of the day that I'd developed a crick in my neck. Although he undoubtedly noticed, he surprisingly refrained from commenting on it—whether that was due to our fight earlier that morning or an actual appreciation for my concern, I wasn't sure.

James still insisted on doing rounds with me that night, and though I was fairly convinced by that point that all arguments were futile, it didn't stop me from trying anyway. "Seriously, James, just go to bed! I've done rounds plenty of times by myself, and they're not that important—"

"They were when I showed up drunk that one time," James said.

I glared at him. "There are so many things wrong with that sentence that I won't even bother pointing them out."

"Learned to control that lecturing urge, have you?"

"Something like that."

We crossed the common room and stepped through the portrait hole.

"I've lasted all day, haven't I?" James continued as we started down the seventh floor corridor. "Two more hours won't make much difference. Plus, I wouldn't want you to run into McGonagall without me again. She'd probably give you detention, and then where would we be?"  
"Well, I'd be in detention, apparently," I answered with a grin, coming to a stop. "But really, you could just break me out again, we could go on a Hogsmeade date"—as the word slipped out of my mouth, I could have kicked myself, but I quickly hurried on, hoping James wouldn't notice, "and everything would be fine, so if you want to go back, I really won't mind."

"Sorry, what was that?"

"I said, if you want to go back—"

"No, no, not that," James said, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "The part about a date."

"What?" I asked, starting to blush.

"Are you asking me out, Evans?"

"No," I said hastily. I started walking again. "The point I was _trying _to make is that you shouldn't worry about getting me in detention, if that's all that's keeping you here."

"The pleasure of your lovely company may have factored in a bit," James replied, still sounding amused. "Besides, I feel obligated to end on a good note, with it being the last day of term and all."

"Which I'd completely forgotten, by the way," I said, gladly jumping on the chance to change the subject. "It took me about five minutes to work out why McGonagall kept blathering on about our homework for the holiday."

"Quite unfair that she assigned us any, I'd say," James said.

"N.E.W.T. year, though; what'd you expect?"

"That she'd finally recognize my exceptional brilliance and realize I had nothing to gain from petty bookwork."

"Yeah, keep dreaming with that one, Potter."

When we were nearing the end of rounds a couple hours later, James made me an unexpected invitation. "My parents used to throw an annual New Year's party at our house; Mum started doing it every other year when my dad died, but this so happens to be the 'every' year. Or is it the 'other' year?" He shrugged. "Anyway, most of Hogwarts seems to find out about it every time—"

"Yes, I can't imagine how," I said dryly, and James grinned.

"—so if you're around—I know you're usually back here before then—"

"Actually, this year I'm staying home until the first."

"Really? Well, brilliant, then; if you don't get any better offers . . ."

"I'll see if I can work you into my immensely busy holiday schedule of doing absolutely nothing," I said, smiling.

"Right," James said as we both came to a stop at the base of the girls' staircase.

I waited for him to add something, but when he didn't, I said, "Well, if I don't see you in the morning, Happy Christmas."

"Yeah, you too."

"Are you going to write to me again?" I asked, then shook my head with an embarrassed laugh. "Not that you have to, obviously—and not that I was necessarily expecting it, but, um . . . can we just forget I ever said anything?"

Grinning again, his eyebrows slightly raised, James said, "Good night, Lily."

"Yes, er, good night."

I may have rushed up the stairs a bit faster than was normal, but I didn't really care if James noticed. My mouth had blurted out enough unwanted utterances for the day to negate any dignity I might have retained by taking the stairs at a regular pace.

Jumping into the shower, I tried not to obsess over whether this New Year's invitation carried the implication of a date, or whether James had asked me just as he would undoubtedly ask Remus, Sirius, and Peter. Though it was inarguably the latter, I couldn't help the slight flip of my stomach when I reentered my bedroom to find a note shoved under my door in James's messy scrawl. The seven words written there were hardly a confession of love, but I smiled at them anyway.

_Only if you promise to write back_.

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A/N: Next chapter will be the last…..And I know a lot of you are going to be mad that I'm not doing any J/L relationship chapters, but I said from the beginning that I'd be ending this story pretty much when they got together. Well, that sounded sort of snobby, but….I hope you all can forgive me for ending it where I do! I'll try to make it AMAZING, b/c you guys DEF deserve it!**

**See you next time, for the last time…**


	36. We'll Find It

**(Edit: This was supposed to be up FOREVER ago (well, okay, Wednesday), but ffnet was being a little bitch, so...anyway, here it is)**

**Reviewers, it's that time again for the penultimate time (b/c I think I'll be posting a short epilogue as well)—my deepest and most sincere thanks to: junebugbug96 ('resolution of resolution'...ha. hahaha), Inu 13, Oriel Subtle, Anna Maria, hughes 247 (nope, haven't read that—I'll add it to the list!), livibug, SecretBlack (oh good, I love it when my random mind tangents make sense to someone else), Saralee (haha, sorry you had to find it before the last chapter was posted!), Jmh, freefallingx19 (so you mean this story hasn't affected people in amazing ways? Haha, totally kidding—I appreciate the compliment!), CinziaTwut (ah, if I had a nickel for every time I had to answer the age-old "Isn't James a Seeker?" question…..it's quite the epic debate, you know ;) Actually, I don't think it ever says in the book what position he played, but JKR answered in an interview once that he was a Chaser—and that's what it says on HP lexicon, which is sort of my go-to for HP info.), jasminebrooke, WobblyJelly, colouringcrayons, Bittersweet x (I fear for my life a lot around you…. ;)), jak23, Lucius Malloy, isigirl, emotionsonhold, maximum destined potter, I'm A Cuckoo, Miss larien, DarlingILoveYou, quest4candy, Quick4eva, ZoneSystems (whoa, German—that's serious! And thank you for all your lovely reviews!), Wander Higher, ErinFabu (I think I just might be able to make that happen…), 97chuckles (I'm so sorry to hear that—stay strong!), Evisawesome, blissedoutvixen, theycallherkaush, lollipopdiego, Can't we just be death eaters, GriffinRose, hoperocks98, Elless, Marinewife08, AliLuvsAlli-Sirius, Audrey, Tribot, Abi (duh, duh, DUH there will be a kiss! What kind of cruel person do you think I am, to leave you all without a kiss! Haha), Elizabeth Lullaby, Tabbycat270, Silver Scorpion, CountingColours, raoul, UltimateLoveStorys, HarryPotterMadFanatic, IIManzaII, MaCherieLoup2416, fisforphenomenal, skazmi, little miss moony, seriouslyblak (lol at your review), xLycheeRAiN, Taylorcutie, movinggirl, Loki,Uusoae, hp loverr 101, viva gal, tardisinthesgc (oooh, cyber cookies—yum!), Meeeee, Elizabeththecrazy, MaryandMerlin, Tarantallegra, MissArtemisFowl, zaurora, Penflyer, PoseidonsLittleGirl, arelli-black, OttoIsMyDog, MisszMarauder, ISolemnlySwearIAmUpToNoGood, RidingonRumbleroar'sback, Cookies and Cream1234567, unnamed anon, Hurricane Rachel (yes, that was the correct word usage—I also rather enjoy that word, and you'll notice I used it above ;)), and xxjenlovexx!**

**Some people were confused as to how Lily ended up in James's bed—I sort of pictured it as an I'm-so-tired-that-I-sleepwalked-into-your-bed-slash-my-unconscious-urges-took-over thing…..or something like that.**

**Oh, and there's a bit in here that will have most of you going "ha! I knew it!" And I'm not talking about J/L getting together, because, well, obviously.**

**This final chapter is dedicated to everyone, because you are all awesome :) And dear Merlin, I hope it lives up to expectations! (I'm nervous…)**

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Previously: **_**Only if you promise to write back. **_**(haha, b/c I, like many of you, love that line—which is sort of self-serving to say, but idc)**

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Chapter 35:** **We'll Find It**

But James's first letter didn't arrive until the thirtieth of December. Though I tried to convince myself my generally sour mood was due to the fact that Petunia's fiancé Vernon stayed with us for the majority of the holidays, the sight of the owl clutching that letter made me shamelessly happy. At the first opportunity, I shut myself in my room to read it.

_Lily,_

_I know, I know—I said I would write, and I'm terribly sorry that I haven't til now. Mum's been driving herself (and, frankly, me as well) crazy getting the house ready for this party. She's been working Sirius and I like house elves; in fact, I'm willing to bet we've had **more **work than the elves. Anyway, I promise to make up my lack of written correspondence by saving you a dance tomorrow night—I'm quite a brilliant dancer, I'll have you know._

_Well, unfortunately I've got to go—Mum's having us clean the ballroom for the twelve billionth time. Honestly, I'm almost looking forward to the decoration bit; at least it'll be something different. I've copied out my address below, and my house is in a wizarding village, so don't worry about being inconspicuous when you Apparate._

_See you tomorrow._

_James_

I glanced briefly at his address, before my eyes flicked back to the word 'ballroom.' I mouthed it silently to myself in disbelief. Just how big was James's house, anyway?

**OOOOOOOO**

I was still wondering the following night as I prepared for the New Year's party. Surprisingly, I hardly felt nervous at all, though I didn't expect the grace period to last. I dressed in a black dress that fell just above my knees and was low-cut enough in the front to make Mary grin knowingly, had she been there to see me. As I was curling my hair in the bathroom, I told myself that I wasn't wearing it down because I (pathetically) remembered James's passing comment on his birthday that he liked it that way.

Grabbing my cloak, I was out the door, but not after promising Mum I'd be home by two at the latest. Though I was technically of age in the wizarding world, I had another month to go in the Muggle one, as Mum was only too kind to patronizingly remind me. Plus, I got the distinct impression she had an irrational distrust of this party idea. Of course, considering its host, perhaps her worry wasn't so unfounded after all.

Hurrying through the frigid winter air to a sufficiently deserted area, I turned on the spot to Apparate, holding James's address firmly in mind. My first impression upon reappearing was that I must not have done it properly. Because there was no way the literal _mansion _before me was James's house. I stood ogling it for a good five minutes, taking in everything from the enormous windows adorning all three (!) floors to the four columns flanking the dark paneled front door. Finally becoming aware of the fact that my feet, clad only in strappy high heels, were absolutely freezing, I shook myself out of my reverie and started forward. As I rapped on the door, the nerves I'd successfully avoided so far suddenly exploded in the pit of my stomach. For some strange reason, I felt like tonight was my last chance with James. It had been exactly a year ago, after all, since we'd decided to be friends and everything had been set in motion. If I was ever going to tell him how I felt, it was now or never.

James opened the door, grinning. "Welcome to my humble abode, Flower," he greeted me.

I snorted at the vast understatement, entering the marble tiled foyer and surveying the grand staircase—one that almost put Hogwarts's to shame—leading to the upper floors. "You _do _actually live here, don't you? I mean, you haven't tied up some poor old rich bloke and stolen his house for your use, have you?"  
James laughed. "No, this is in fact the home of my childhood."

"Have you got a map of it too, then? Because I think I might need one." I took off my cloak and started to hand it to him, jumping when I was addressed by a squeaky voice around the vicinity of my left knee.

"Please, miss, Effie can take your cloak for you, miss," what I discovered to be a house elf said.

"Oh! Er, right . . . thanks," I said, handing my cloak to the elf instead. She hurried away, practically buried beneath the folds of fabric. I looked back at James to find him staring at me, an odd look on his face. "What?"

"Nothing," he said, shaking his head as though to clear it. "Glad to see you wore Muggle clothes, though," he added as he led me up to the second floor. "I forgot to tell you in the letter that only the adults bother with dress robes."

"I honestly don't think I even own any," I replied.

We soon entered what was, indeed, a ballroom. A string quartet played on a raised platform along one wall, while most of the wall adjacent was taken up by a blazing fireplace. Two chandeliers hung from the ceiling, and several small tables were arranged at the far end of the room. Two longer tables stood near the musicians, one laden with hors d'oeuvres and small desserts, the other with goblets of wine and flutes of champagne. "You have a ballroom. In your house," I said disbelievingly as James and I wove through the crowd to where Remus, Sirius and Peter were chatting with Carin and a girl I didn't recognize near the drinks table.

"Impressed?" James asked, smirking over his shoulder at me.

"No, just . . . I can't believe you grew up in a place like this. It does explain a lot, though."

Evidently guessing where I was heading with that, James rolled his eyes. "All right, you can save the spoiled rich boy jabs for later. This is a party, after all, and you _are _here at my invitation, so—"

"Lily!" Sirius's voice rang out across the room, and he hurried over to meet us. Kissing me on the cheek, he declared, "You look absolutely spiffing tonight, darling."

I laughed. "You're drunk already, aren't you?"

"I may have sampled a bit of the dancing juice, yes," he said airily.

We joined the others, and I smiled a greeting at Remus and Peter, gave Carin an awkward little wave, and waited to be introduced to the final member of the group. But I was left waiting, as Sirius almost immediately announced, "Right, now we can finally join the real party."

Before I could ask what he meant by that, everyone started back the way James and I had come. Deciding to just go along with it, I commented conversationally to Sirius, "You know, you're actually supposed to do those up." I pointed to his tie, which currently hung loose about his neck.

"Well, it's really just for show," he said. "I won't need it where we're going, anyway."

For some reason, this struck me as suspiciously ominous. "Er, where _are_ we going, exactly?" I asked James apprehensively.

He grinned, but left me with an enigmatic, "You'll see," as his only explanation.

And I did indeed see shortly afterwards, after we'd exited the ballroom and passed through the door immediately beside it. A much different atmosphere greeted us on the other side, one highly reminiscent of the Gryffindor New Year's party the previous year. The room was smaller than the ballroom, but more comfortably furnished, with couches, chairs and tables of various sizes and styles scattered along one end—the other had been cleared for dancing. Drinks and food were present here, too, though they were of a decidedly less refined quality than those in the ballroom.

"Your Mum's okay with all this?" I asked James skeptically, raising my voice slightly over the music that was pounding from magically levitated speakers.

He just shrugged in return. "As long as it's all cleaned up by morning and no one dies or gets pregnant, she's pretty hands off about it."

I shook my head, but couldn't help a—somewhat exasperated—smile. "So, who's Sirius's, er . . . friend?" I asked, gesturing towards the girl I hadn't recognized earlier. She was currently dancing with Sirius, the pair rather too close to mistake their intentions as entirely platonic, despite my choice of words.

"No idea," James answered. "I think he's attempting to get off with two different girls tonight . . . so we'll see how that goes," he added, flashing me an amused grin.

"Lovely," I said sardonically. "But Remus and Carin—that's still happening, is it?" I glanced over to where the couple was chatting with Peter, grinning in satisfaction as I spotted Remus's arm around Carin's waist.

"Yes, your matchmaking skills are unparalleled, Evans," James said dryly.

I elbowed him lightly. "Hey, now, I never claimed any credit for that. Well, all right, maybe a little," I allowed when James quirked an eyebrow at me. Teasingly, I added, "My record's better than yours, at any rate." James looked at me, the same odd expression from earlier on his face. _Tell him, tell him, tell him, _my mind chanted, but the words stuck in my throat, and eventually I turned away again.

**OOOOOOOO**

James and I talked with Remus, Carin, and Peter for most of the next hour, until Sirius grabbed me unexpectedly from behind and pulled me onto the dance floor. "You can't just stand around all night, Evans," he insisted. The next few minutes primarily consisted of him spinning me around as fast as he could, while I held onto his arms for dear life and tried not to trip over my own feet.

Laughing uncontrollably by the time the song ended, it was a minute before I caught my breath enough to speak. "Well, I think I'm properly dizzy now, thanks," I said.

"That's what I'm here for, love," Sirius said with a wink.

"And what's this I hear about you chasing two girls, Black?" I asked slyly.

He grinned deviously. "You hear correctly—so far, each is satisfyingly oblivious to the other."

I laughed. "Well, you'd better hope it stays that way."

Sirius shrugged. "If nothing else, it'll at least be interesting, right?"

And I couldn't argue with that. Moving back to where the others had been, I discovered that only James was left. Looking around, I saw that Remus was dancing with Carin, and Peter had managed to snag himself a dance partner as well. Turning to James, I said, "So, I was promised a dance, Potter."

He raised his eyebrows. "You're not expecting one like that, are you?" he asked, gesturing to the spot Sirius and I had recently occupied.

"No, rather unlike that, I'd say."

"Back to the ballroom, then?"

"Lead the way."

As we entered the much calmer room next door, James took my hand, pulling me around so I was facing him and resting his free hand between my shoulder blades. I immediately wondered why I'd brought up dancing at all, because being so close to James seemed to interfere with my breathing. Glancing down at our feet to steel myself, I met James's eyes again. He was grinning, and before I could say anything, we were off across the dance floor.

I let out a surprised laugh, nervousness suddenly gone. "Where the hell did you learn to waltz, James?"

"My mum made me take lessons," he answered.

I laughed again at that. "Oh, so were these after your painting lessons? No, wait, they were before your French tutor, weren't they?"

James glared down at me. "Sod off, Lily. It was before my cousin's wedding two summers ago."

"Right," I said, still smiling teasingly at him. All mocking aside, however, the lessons had obviously paid off. Even though my own dancing skills were virtually non-existent, it hardly mattered; James's expert leading kept me from making a complete fool of myself.

When the song finished, we started over to the drinks table, each grabbing a flute of champagne. "Told you I was brilliant, no?"

"Better than Sirius, anyway," I allowed, taking a sip of my drink. Glancing up at the ornate clock over the fireplace, I nearly choked. "Merlin, it's almost midnight already!"

James looked at the clock as well, before hurriedly downing the rest of his champagne and setting the empty glass back on the table. "Come on," he said, taking my hand and starting to lead me back out of the ballroom. "We don't want to bring in the New Year here—how boring."

The mood in the other room had become, if possible, more high spirited since we'd left, everyone excitedly awaiting the stroke of midnight. I quickly spotted Sirius, arms slung around two girls—the one from earlier and another I thought might have been a seventh year Hufflepuff. Apparently, they'd come to terms with the other's existence. When I pointed this out to James, he just shook his head in exasperated affection.

"Sometimes, even I don't understand the things he does," he said.

I was about to reply, when a shout of "Ten!" rang out around the room. "Oh, here we go," I muttered instead, and James grinned at me.

"Don't sound so enthusiastic, Evans."

As calls of "Happy New Year!" were shouted out, I laughed as Sirius dipped back each of his ladies in turn for a big kiss. Nearby, Remus was giving Carin a far more chaste peck on the lips. "You call that a kiss, Moony?" Sirius yelled as he passed his friend on his way over to James and I. "Happy New Year, Lily-flower," he said, kissing me on the cheek, before turning to James, grabbing his face in both hands, and kissing him squarely on the forehead.

"Now, I'd certainly call _that _a kiss," Remus said dryly as he approached. Looking around, I saw that Carin had been called over by a couple of her girlfriends.

"Aw, Moony, no need to be jealous; I've saved one for you, too," Sirius said, and before Remus could protest, he'd planted a kiss on his head as well.

"Merlin," Remus muttered as Sirius stumbled off again. Smiling and James and I, he added, "Happy New Year, you two."

"Same to you, mate," James said.

"Happy New Year, Remus."

"Well, I'd better go find out where Peter's passed out," Remus said, rolling his eyes slightly.

"How long did the poor sod last this time?" James asked.

"Oh, I haven't actually seen him unconscious yet, but . . ." he trailed off with a shake of his head.

"All right, go off and be responsible, then," James dismissed him.

Sparing his friend a brief frown, Remus departed in search of the fourth Marauder.

"Well, Happy New Year, I suppose," I said when James and I were alone again.

"Again with the enthusiasm; you really need to calm down, Evans, I don't want a big scene or anything."

"Oh, shut up," I said, punching him on the arm.

"And you'll have to stop being so friendly—I know it's the one year anniversary of our friendship and all, but just tone it down a bit, all right?"

"Honestly, James," was all I could think of to say to that.

He turned away with a grin, and we were quiet for a moment, watching everyone exchange enthusiastic-and often amorous-wishes for a happy New Year. "Lily?" James said seriously after a while, and his abrupt change in tone caused me to look up. "I never forgot that kiss, you know."

"What?" I asked, my voice coming out croaky with shock and my pulse quickening.

"At the end of last year, I—"

"What?" I repeated, all traces of croakiness gone now as I stared at James in disbelief and, I'll admit, anger. "What do you mean, you didn't forget it?"

James frowned, looking a bit confused by my hostility. "I mean that next morning, I only pretended I had no memory of the night before because—"

"Why the bloody hell would you do a thing like that?"

Now James looked angry as well. "Because you didn't want me to remember it!"

"And how did you know that?"

"Come off it, Lily," he scoffed, "you should have seen your face when you realized I'd forgotten—I'd never seen someone look so relieved in my life."

"But you had no right to do that, James Potter, _no right_!"

"So, you're telling me everything would have been just _fine _if I'd done otherwise? That you'd have blown it off as no big deal and we could have laughed about it over tea and biscuits later? Look, Lily, I did it to s—"

"Don't you _dare _say you did it to 'save our friendship,' Potter, because that is the most bullshit answer I've ever—"

James let out a humorless laugh. "Well, I'm sorry for even bringing it up," he said. "I just didn't like lying to you anymore, so I figured—"

"Shut up, James," I commanded.

Glaring furiously now, James said, "You can't ju—"

But I didn't let him finish. Grabbing the ends of his collar in both hands, I stood up on my toes and pulled his lips roughly against mine.

James froze in surprise for about half a second, before grabbing me about the waist and kissing me back just as hard. Just as he parted my lips with his tongue, sending all sorts of delicious little shivers down my spine, a dry voice said from beside us, "So, I suppose neither of you have seen Peter since I was here last, then?"

With a squeak of surprise, I pulled back from James, heat rushing into my face as I looked around at Remus. He was fighting an amused smile, and losing quite spectacularly. "Right, well, I'll let you get back to . . . what you were doing," he said, and with one more knowing grin, he departed in search of his friend again.

"Bloody rude of him to interrupt in the first place," James muttered, directing my face back towards his.

"Wait!" I said, the recent interruption bringing me back to my senses. "We have to talk."

Almost comically, James's expression darkened immediately. "Oh no, I'm not going to give you that one, Evans," he said, attempting to kiss me again.

I pushed against his chest to hold him off. "Seriously, James, there are some . . . things, we have to figure out before we . . . anyway, come on." I took his hand, pulling him towards the door.

James let out a resigned groan behind me. "_You're _the one who jumped _me _just now, remember."

"Be quiet," I ordered, now marching down the hallway in search of an empty room.

"If I disobey that request, will you snog me again to shut me up?"

Not deigning to dignify that with an answer, I pushed at the first door I came to. It was a bedroom. Hastily pulling the door closed again, I muttered "Shut up," to James, who was chuckling in amusement, and led us into the next room, which turned out to be far more acceptable for a serious chat.

After my cursory glance at the small library we'd just entered, I turned to shut the door . . . only to be shoved up against it moments later, James's mouth capturing mine once more. "Mmphf!" I protested against his lips, struggling to push him away again. He complied partially, releasing my mouth, though his lips continued to trail along my jaw. "James," I started, finding it exceptionally difficult to concentrate, a feat with was not made easier when James's mouth moved from my jaw to my neck.

"We can talk later," James mumbled, evidently guessing my train of thought, befuddled as it was in my own mind.

"Yes," I said, my fingers trailing absently through the short hairs at the base of James's neck. "I mean, no! No, we can't," I added hurriedly, pulling my hand away and pushing at James's shoulder.

With a large sigh, James pressed a final kiss against my collarbone and stood back, though only slightly. In fact, his arm was resting casually against the wall above my head, his forehead practically touching mine—in other words, he was still far too close to allow for rational thought.

I shook my head. "No, I can't think when you're leaning over me like that," I informed him, stepping to the side and around him. Surveying the room again, I pointed to an oversized leather chair against the far wall. "Go . . . go sit over there."

James raised an eyebrow at me. "Lily," he began, managing to sound pleading and exasperated at the same time.

I crossed my arms and fixed him with a stern look. "James," I said. "Go."

With another exaggerated sigh, James complied. I settled myself on a low table across from him, though at a sufficiently safe distance, and tried to decide where to start. "Right, so . . . talking," I said finally.

James sat back, folding his arms over his chest. "I can nearly see straight up your dress from here," he commented eventually, when my mouth continued to fail me.

Glaring admonishingly at him, I crossed my legs, kicking off my shoes as I did so. "Why did you set me up with A.J.?" I finally blurted out, figuring that was as good a place as any to start.

James looked momentarily surprised by the question, but then he wrinkled his nose. "Can we skip that one for the moment? I'd really prefer never to answer it, actually."

"Well, unfortunately I'd prefer otherwise. Talk."

"Fine," he said reluctantly. After a pause, he continued, "I suppose I had some stupid idea that I had to . . . prove I was over you, or something." He reddened slightly at this, and I found that I quite liked him being the one that was squirmy and embarrassed for once. "But that obviously backfired, and here we are. That's the short version and yes, that's all you're getting."

I nodded. "All right, I'll let you pass with that for now. But why did you deny—or, deny by omission anyway—that kiss? And I want your honest answer, not your angry one."

The left corner of James's mouth twitched up slightly at that. "'Save the friendship' _was _my honest answer, Evans. I mean, I'd have articulated it a bit more creatively, but that's the general idea."

"Don't think your mocking is going to distract me. I'm not allowing the 'short version' this time."

James sat forward, elbows resting on his knees. "Well, how would you have reacted, Lily? Look me in the eye and tell me you wouldn't have avoided me for at least a week."

My blush was answer enough; I _had _ranted to Mary for nearly an hour that night about facing James the next morning, after all. "Okay, I might have, you know, probably done that. But then—I don't know, maybe I—"

"Would have ditched Rookie and started dating me instead?" James asked, and I winced at the skeptical tone in his voice.

"Fine, maybe you were right to lie to me," I admitted reluctantly. "I suppose your other option was to tell the truth but then write it off as a mistake."

James frowned. "What?"

"You know, like you did after The Incident."

James raised his eyebrows. "The what?"

I blushed, realizing what I'd just said. "I—er—that's what I've been calling . . . you know, the night when we almost kissed. And why did you pull away, anyway?"

"Sorry, 'The Incident'?"

"Just . . . will you just answer the question, Potter?"

"Right—well, similar reasons, I suppose. I mean, I thought you'd never forgive me if I kissed you; I'd almost ruined things once before, and then I went and nearly did it _again_ . . ."

I was starting to see why he'd seemed so angry that night. My first instinct had been right—he had been angry at himself for nearly ruining things, in his eyes. "I would have let you kiss me," I interrupted.

"And I didn't even—what?" James asked, blinking at me.

"I was going to let you kiss me," I repeated. "I mean, I didn't exactly move away."

"Well, I thought you were frozen in terror, or something."

"Come now, James, you're not that terrible a kisser."

James grinned. "You sure about that? I think the theory needs a bit more testing." He started to rise from the chair, but I scooted back on the table, holding out a hand as though to fend him off.

"No, no, no—stay where you are; we are not done talking."

Looking disgruntled, James sank back down.

"All right, so . . . so you didn't kiss me—"

"No, I think I would have remembered if I had."

"Apparently. But . . . I was furious at you that next day! What exactly did you think had caused my drunken rampage?"

James grinned briefly, but it quickly turned to a frown. "I thought it was because of Audrey."

"Well, it was!"

"Right, but I thought it was, you know, all that rubbish about me being shallow and such that you'd been on about all year."

"I never went 'on about' anything of the sort."

"And then, when I found out you'd broken up with A.J.," James continued, acting as though he hadn't heard me, "I figured that had something to do with it as well."

"But I told you it didn't!" I said, pushing myself to my feet.

"Yes, well, what was I supposed to think?" James demanded, standing as well.

"That I bloody fancied you, you idiot!"

"Which is why, after 'The Incident,'"—he said the words with a heavy amount of sarcasm—"you asked to borrow my Transfiguration book. Yes, how could I have missed that obvious confession of love?"

"I couldn't very well have done anything else with A.J. standing _right there_, you prat!"

"All right, fine, but there wasn't another point in the past _month _where you could have fit it into the conversation?"

"Well, excuse me, but I figured that after you called it a mistake—"

"I never said that!"

"You said you shouldn't have done it, though—"

"That's because I shouldn't have done it! And I already explained that so . . . so there!"

I snorted. "Once again, Potter, you've stunned me with your brilliantly persuasive arguments."

Both of us fell silent, staring at each other. Suddenly James grinned and said, "Honestly, what is wrong with us? Why are we even fighting about this?"

"Because it's what we do," I said, leaning back against the table with a smile of my own. "Merlin, we've both been idiots for . . . for the past several months."

"Well, I'd say that in this particular case, _you_ were probably more—"

"James," I said threateningly, and he fell silent with a smirk.

And then, I'm a bit embarrassed to admit, I quite literally leapt at him. Seriously, I think my feet actually left the ground. James let out an _oomph _of surprise as I barreled into him, but didn't comment further beyond murmuring against my lips, "Are we done talking, then? Excellent."

Picking up where we'd left off in the other room, James began backing us up slowly until he stumbled up against his chair again. I think he attempted to sit down, but our limbs were so entangled that we ended up sort of falling onto the chair instead. Laughing, I rearranged myself so I was straddling James's lap, my hands linked loosely behind his neck.

"Sorry," he muttered, directing my lips back to his. His left hand rested on my hip, while he kept his right firmly behind my head, gently tilting it for the optimal snogging angle. Though I probably shouldn't have been surprised by it, I soon discovered that James was quite the expert snogger. Before, I might have considered what I'd gained with A.J. experience, but I now realized I was still woefully behind in the kissing department. So I let James take charge, while I followed his lead and tried not to pass out from the intoxicating heat that seemed to radiate from his lips onto mine. Of course, lack of adequate air might also have had something to do with my lightheadedness. But I wasn't about to stop for a trivial thing like breathing—we had plenty of time to make up for, after all.

As preoccupied as I thought I was with all the non-fainting business, I was rather surprised to discover several minutes later that James's tie was missing and his shirt had come half unbuttoned. Deciding it only seemed fair to finish the job, I undid the remaining buttons, trailing my fingertips lightly over James's chest and smiling as he shivered in response. Finally disengaging my mouth from his, I kissed the underside of his jaw and pressed quick kisses against his collarbone and the hollow at the base of his throat, before James tilted my chin up to kiss me again. The hand that had been on my hip now moved down my leg, and James's thumb caressed light circles against my inner thigh. When the tips of his fingers slid under the hem of my dress, I sat back abruptly, and James's hand immediately withdrew.

"Sorry," he said, his voice rougher than usual.

"It's all right," I replied. We stared at each other for a moment, both breathing quickly. The look in James's eyes made my heart beat faster and compelled me to add, "Maybe we should, um . . ." I stopped, trying to figure out how to ask that we slow down without sounding like a complete prude.

"Okay," James said, saving me the necessity of speaking. He kissed me again lightly, and I rearranged myself so I was sitting on James's lap, my legs dangling over the arm of the chair. James slid his arm behind my back, and I leaned my head against his chest, feeling his still-accelerated heart beat under my cheek.

"Did you want to go back to the party?" I asked after a minute.

James snorted. "Seriously? What do you think?"

"Well, all right, I was just asking." Another pause, then, "You know, I think I'm more jealous of this library than the ballroom."

Laughing, James said, "This was just my dad's library. There's a much bigger one on the first floor."

I sat up to shoot him an incredulous look. "You have more than one library in your house? How is that even—wait, did you say this was your dad's library?" James nodded, and I grimaced. "Now I feel like we just violated his memory, or something."

Grinning, James shook his head. "Nah, I'm sure he'd approve."

"If you say so," I muttered, tucking my head under his chin again. Looking down, my eyes fell on the white scars on James's lower abdomen, now revealed by his open shirt. Reaching out to trace them gently with my finger, I said, "James, can I ask you something?"

"I think you'll find that you can, Flower."

"Actually, quick thing first—you can't call me 'Flower' anymore."

"Why ever not?"

"Because, whereas before it was sort of a teasing nickname, it will from now on be seen as a sickeningly cute pet name . . . and I cannot allow that."

"Whatever you say, my darling sweet Lily-flower."

Letting out a little sigh of frustration, but deciding it was something that could be discussed later, I returned to my original question. "Anyway, that night," I started, brushing his scars again to indicate which night I meant, "what did you think when I . . . or, when you . . ."

"When I woke up with you in my bed?"

I blushed. "Er, yes, that."

James was quiet for a moment, and what he eventually said surprised me. "I'll admit, it was a bit of a shock at first, but . . . well, then I was less shocked by the fact that you were there and more by how . . . normal it seemed." He took a deep breath, "And that's when I knew I would never truly be over you."

"I . . . er, right," I said lamely, and James chuckled. I flushed, burying my face in his shirt in embarrassment. "Oh, be quiet," I muttered into the fabric.

We sat like that without speaking for so long that I nearly dozed off. Even though I would have gone back to the other room with James if he'd wanted to, I was exceedingly glad he hadn't. In fact, I was seriously contemplating never moving again.

"So, emotional distress, eh?" James finally mused quietly, and I sat up abruptly, fully awake now. "That was about me, then?" He was smirking slightly.

I glared at him. "If you must know, yes it was. And it was _not funny_—not that you care, evidently."

James's smirk only widened. "Sweetheart, you're not going to get any sympathy from me, I'm afraid. 'Emotional distress' basically defined my life for the past six months."

Though he was obviously joking, his words stopped me short. I'd never considered that all the shit I'd been going through the past month, all the torment and misery . . . I'd put James through that too. "I'm sorry," I whispered, kissing him softly.

"Don't worry about it," he said, grinning. "I can probably come up with some way for you to make it up to me."

**OOOOOOOO**

The next thing I knew, I was waking up with an incredibly stiff neck. Sitting up, I rolled my head around slowly. "You don't make a very comfortable bed," I informed James.

"Sorry—I'll try and work on that one," he said. As I twisted around to face him, he smiled lazily at me. "Good morning," he said, leaning up to kiss me.

His lips had barely brushed mine when his words fully registered in my ears. I pulled back so quickly I nearly tumbled off the chair. "Morning?" I exclaimed as James grabbed my arm to steady me. "What time is it?" Glancing over his shoulder, I saw that the blinds over the windows behind us were outlined in a faint grey-ish light. "Shit! Why didn't you wake me up, you git?" I said, cuffing James over the head as I scrambled out of his lap. "I told my mum I'd be home by two! She is going to kill me!" Retrieving my heels from under the table I'd been sitting on last night, I shoved my foot into the first one. "She's probably got all the policemen in a fifty mile radius looking for me; if she could work out how, she'd have the Auror department on it as well!" Hopping on one foot, I pulled my second shoe on. "And who knows? She might have managed that by n—"

I was forced to stop when James walked over and pressed two fingers against my lips.

"Sorry," I mumbled around them, and James dropped his hand to his side. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Right, I'm calm now," I announced, and James grinned.

"Good morning," he repeated.

"You already said that," I pointed out.

"Yes, and you hit me round the head for my efforts, so I figured I try it over."

"Sorry," I said again, draping my arms loosely around James's neck and permitting him to kiss me fully this time.

The door to the library banged open, and the two of us jumped apart in surprise. Heat immediately rushed to my face at the sight of Remus and Sirius, both of whom sported highly amused grins.

"Well, it's about bloody time," Sirius said. "Now I don't have to keep quiet about that damn kiss anymore. You should just know, Prongs, that there were about eight hundred and seventy-five times I could have told her, but—"

"Wait, you told _them _about it?" I said indignantly, fixing James with a fierce look.

"Well, obviously; I needed to tell _someone _about it," he defended, dodging out of the way as I raised my hand to hit him again.

"I should say he did, he was a pathetic and worthless mess that night, you kn—"

"Yes, _thank you_, Padfoot," James said shortly.

Turning my glare onto Sirius and Remus, I snapped, "And you were the ones who convinced him not to tell me, were you?"

"I was all for him telling you the truth," Remus started, but both Sirius and James shot that down immediately.

"Don't lie, Moony," Sirius scoffed.

"You were the first to suggest I pretend I was too drunk to remember," James added.

Letting out a frustrated sigh, I moved towards the door. "I don't know why I even bother with you lot," I muttered. The three Marauders followed me into the hallway, and I halted as I belatedly noticed the absence of the fourth. "Where's Peter?"

"Feeling a bit under the weather, if you know what I mean," Sirius said lightly. "Poor sod," he added, not looking as though he was sorry at all.

"You found him then, Moony?" James asked, smirking.

"Yes, no thanks to the three of you," he replied with a frown, though his lips still betrayed a hint of his earlier grin.

"So, what's up for today?" Sirius asked, clapping his hands together. "I wouldn't object to a little Quidditch—Peter's probably out, but Lily, Prongs tells me you're an excellent flier now, what d'you say?"

Rolling my eyes, I said, "First, that is not even remotely true, and second, I have to—"

"James!" a female voice called out from behind us. Turning, I felt myself redden again as a woman who could only be James's mother approached us. She was tall, her graying hair lighter than James's, but her eyes the exact same shade of hazel. James's hands jumped instantly to his shirt, which was still hanging open, and he hastily began to do up the buttons.

Blushing even harder at this, I waited for Mrs. Potter to explode as my mum would've done if she'd caught me with a strange boy in the house. Which she would essentially do as soon as I got home and explained where I'd spent the night.

But James's mother merely regarded me with amused surprise, before turning back to her son, eyebrows raised for an explanation.

"Er, right," James said, dropping his hands from his shirt and reaching around to pull me up beside him. Keeping his fingers firmly entwined with mine, he continued, "Mum, this is Lily Evans, my . . . er . . . Lily."

"Well, that's a bit possessive, Prongs," Sirius commented from behind us, sounding as though he was thoroughly enjoying the situation. "I don't think Lily appreciates being treated like an object."

James spared his best mate a brief glare before turning back to his mother, who was now glancing between me and James's still half-undone shirt. She appeared to be fighting a smile rather than the urge to strangle us, however, though I wasn't quite sure which I preferred at the moment.

"Don't worry, Mrs. Potter," Sirius went on, obviously picking up on her pointed glances as well, "I'm sure James and Lily didn't do anything I wouldn't do."

"That's comforting, Sirius, thank you," Mrs. Potter said dryly. "Anyway, James, the anteroom's still a mess"—I assumed the 'anteroom' was the location of the Hogwarts party last night—"and I would appreciate if you and Sirius could have it cleaned up before breakfast. Remus, dear, I know I can't order you to help them, but if you could at least make sure they actually do it and don't just throw the extra food at each other, I'd be forever grateful."

Remus grinned. "Sure thing, Mrs. Potter."

"Lily," she continued, and my hand tightened reflexively around James's in apprehension. But his mother smiled at me and said, "It's lovely to meet you at last; James has told me a lot about you over the years—"

"_Mum_," James protested through gritted teeth, and I smirked up at him, though he was glaring at his mother and didn't notice.

"Well, you have, James, and Lily seems like a bright girl; I'm sure she's under no delusions about how long you've fancied her."

"Merlin, mum, do you mind?" James said, face now as red as mine.

Mrs. Potter moved forward to pat her son on the cheek. "I'm your mother, James, it's my job to embarrass you." Turning back to me, she added, "Are you staying for breakfast, dear? You're more than welcome, of course, and I won't even ask you to clean anything first."

I smiled. "No, thank you, but my mum's expecting me. She's been expecting me for about six hours, actually, so I'd really better get home."

Mrs. Potter nodded knowingly. "Right, well, I'm sure it won't be as horrible as you think."

_You don't know my mother, _I wanted to say, but I just nodded politely.

"It's all right, Lily," Sirius said with a cheeky grin, "if your mum throws you out, you can always come live here—Mrs. Potter's very sympathetic about that sort of thing."

"That's quite enough out of you, Sirius," Mrs. Potter said, though her stern tone didn't banish the smile in her eyes. "I'm going to check on poor Peter—when I return I expect to find the three of you hard at work." After James, Remus, and Sirius had all promised to comply, Mrs. Potter departed.

"So, told your mum _loads _about me, have you?" I asked James teasingly as soon as she was out of earshot.

"I can't believe she said that," James sighed. "You're right—I should have snuck you out earlier; now I've got to clean all morning."

"What? How does that have anything to do with me? You would have done anyway, wouldn't you?"

"Yes, but she'd at least have let us eat first."

"Oh, so now it's my fault is it?"

"Nice to know the bickering hasn't been affected by recent developments," Remus commented wryly.

"Moony, you know full well it would take a magnitude shift in the very makeup of the universe to stop James and Lily arguing," Sirius said with a falsely wise air.

"And aren't you two supposed to be cleaning?" James said pointedly.

"So're you," Sirius returned with narrowed eyes.

"I'll catch up with you in a minute, after I walk Lily to the door."

"I think she's perfectly capable of finding it on her own, Prongs," Sirius said, folding his arms and refusing to move. "Don't think I'm going to accept snogging as an excuse for getting out of your share of the work."

"Come on, Padfoot," Remus said, beginning to drag his friend down the hall. Flashing me a smile, he added, "See you back at school, Lily."

"Bye," I said.

James and I headed for the front door, grabbing my cloak on the way. Stopping in the entryway, James slid his arms around my waist. "You could just stay, you know. As you might imagine, we have plenty of extra rooms. Or, since you seem to like my bed so much—"

I gave him a little shove. "No, I really should go. Not just to keep my mum from having a heart attack, but I know Mary would be annoyed if I chose you over her."

"And what about me? What if I'm cross that you're choosing her over me?"

"Well, like you said, I'm sure you'll think of a way for me to make it up to you," I said, stretching up to kiss him. When we broke apart, I added contemplatively, "A year ago I was making a New Year's resolution to be friends with you . . ." James grinned. "Guess I broke that one after all."

**

* * *

A/N: All righty kiddos, that's it! Well, okay, not really—like I said, I've got a short epilogue that'll be up in a few days. It's another letter one, and has (IMO) a much less cheesy and more satisfying last line ;)**

**As for the dreaded/anticipated s-word…..we shall see, dear readers, we shall see. I don't want to give you too much hope, because at this point there's probably less than a 20% chance that I'll do one. But I, like you, will miss this story so…..maybe. (Not sure if I should tell you this, since it might raise false hope, but I may or may not have written a James/Lily reunion at Hogwarts post New Years, since I couldn't bear to let them go yet! Okay, that totally makes it sound like I'm writing a sequel, but honestly, I have zero ideas at this point. And I really do prefer writing them pre-relationship. So, bottom line, it's a big MAYBE at this point.)**

**I was amused by the mixed opinion on it, actually—isn't there always one? Some people were like, "OMG my life is ending with this story YOU HAVE TO WRITE A SEQUEL!" while others were like "Oh thank god, I hate the stories that show them in a relationship." So, either way, I'm pretty much not going to please everyone….sigh.**

**Oh, and something along the lines of remembering that kiss/confessing his undying love or whatever was what James was trying to get out before the sleeping potion put him under in the last chapter. In case you were wondering. Okay, I think that answers all the major questions, haha.**

**Well, after that rambling and mostly pointless A/N, I bid adieu to you all! It has been an absolute pleasure writing this story, and you're all so wonderful for reading/reviewing/favoriting, and just generally being amazing readers! So, thanks!**


	37. Epilogue

**A/N: Okay, I'm trying to get this off really quickly before I leave on vacation with my family, so no time to individually thank those who've reviewed ch.35 so far…but a general shout out to those who have—like I said, I've loved doing this story, and I would never have imagined I'd break 1000 reviews, much less 1321 (current count)! You are all amazing, wonderful, lovely, fantastic readers!**

**Right. Epilogue. Go.**

**Oh, and to remind you of the fonts:**

Lily-normal

**James-bold**

_Mary-italics_**  
**

**

* * *

Epilogue: Hello It's Me**

James,

Well, I survived, and am now safely on the train back to Hogwarts. Just thought you'd like to know, as it's your fault I had to dodge my mother's wrath in the first place. Actually, she wasn't as angry as I thought she'd be when she found out I'd been at your house all night—I think her relief that I hadn't been murdered by a psychotic serial killer (her words) overpowered everything else. Still, you're probably lucky it was your mum and not mine who caught you coming out of the library half naked. If that had happened at my house, you'd have been dead faster than you could say . . . something short and clever that I can't be bothered to come up with right now.

Merlin, the holiday train is boring.

Lily

P.S. All right, I wasn't going to tell you this, but I suppose you have every right to know what you've gotten yourself into. In my defense, the following only transpired as the result of extreme boredom. I've started studying for N.E.W.T.s. There, now you know the full extent of my swottyness. Mock away—honestly, I'm even judging myself a bit for this one. If you're starting to have any regrets, it's not too late to back out.

**Lily,**

**In the spirit of assigning blame, you should know that Sirius and I didn't finish cleaning up the mess from the party until nearly noon. And that was with magic, too. We'd nearly starved to death by that time, since we couldn't even snack on the leftover food as we worked. Apparently, someone had charmed all of it to turn your skin orange and make hair grow out of your ears, as Sirius was only too kind to discover for us. That's what he gets for having the weakest resolve when it comes to food. Remus and Peter'd already finished breakfast by the time we got there, lucky sods. I'm fairly certain Mum gets some sort of sadistic and decidedly un-mother-like pleasure out of torturing me.**

**I would offer my sympathies with regards to your boredom, but I _did _say you should have stayed here. If you had, you can be sure that you'd be so far from bored you wouldn't even remember what it feels like.**

**James**

**P.S. I'm holding back all of the teasing comments I could make about your studious nature, as I've decided to practice restraint in that area. Not only does it seem the right thing to do, considering recent circumstances, but it's much more entertaining to be able to see your reaction in person. Don't worry, though, no second thoughts here. I will never regret you, Lily.**

Mary,

Much to tell, but it deserves to be done in person, not a letter. I should be back around two hours after you receive this, so be sure to make yourself available for your lovely and news-filled best friend.

Lily

* * *

James,

Fine. If you're not inclined to show me sympathy, I'm not offering any to you, either. I do wish I could have been there to laugh at Sirius, though. You're right—the boy is far too dependent on his stomach.

I'm finally off the train and back among the distractions of the holiday version of the Gryffindor common room (which means no more insane urges to study for exams that are still six months off). It's amazing how mad everyone goes when there's no class. Even without you and your fellow Marauders here, things still manage to get quite out of hand. I—

* * *

_Lily,_

_I was promised news. Big news. Spill._

_Mary_

Mary,

Just let me finish this.

Lily

_I can't believe I've been replaced so easily. Just give me a quick summary. You finally shagged James, didn't you?_

_Mary_

M,

Don't be absurd. And I will tell you _in a minute_. It's your fault for not being around when I got back.

L

_L_

_You're being completely unfair—I was at dinner, and you got back earlier than you'd said. Just one little hint?_

_M_

Macdonald, if you do not leave me alone, I swear I won't tell you anything. Except that I snogged James at his New Year's party.

Lily

* * *

I've lost my train of thought. Sorry

Lily

P.S. Blame Mary—she kept pestering me to share the details of last night, but I think I've managed to placate her for the moment. She's currently alternating between squealing in delight and laughing like a maniac. I'm starting to get a bit worried, actually. As to the regretting thing, well, er, good. I'm glad you didn't tell me that in person, because I would have been sure to make an even bigger dolt of myself trying to answer than I have with what I've just written. As it is, I'm still grinning like an idiot about it.

**Lily,**

**It's all right. I often have that effect on people, even when they aren't standing in my blindingly handsome presence. I'm sure you'll recover your mental processes shortly, though be prepared to lose them again when I return. Hmmm, sounded a bit ominous, that, didn't it? Well, just to clarify—I'm going to snog you senseless when next we meet.**

**James**

**P.S. Excellent—glad to hear it.**

James,

Well, that's something to look forward to, at least. And I have full confidence in your ability to do so, if recent events are anything to judge by.

Which (sort of, except not really at all) brings me to what I've been working on in your absence. You may or may not want to kill me for this, but I've come up with some rules for us. Well, mostly for you (yes, I know how you hate rules, but just bear with me on this one).

1. No public snogging. Kisses under five seconds, hand-holding, occasional lap sitting—that's all well and good, but anything else . . . I'm not going to be one of those couples. And before you offer any objections, may I just remind you of the single rooms currently in our possession that will serve quite nicely for any 'snogging senseless' or related activities.

2. No cute nicknames. I know I sort of already brought this up, but I don't think you really took me seriously (do you ever?). I promise a swift and painful retribution if you continue with the 'Flower' business.

3. Related to that, I am in fact not a fan of grand gestures of affection . . . or whatever you want to term them. Even though I know you'll just gloat and be completely unbearable about it, I did think A.J.'s stunt was a bit excessive for six months. There, I've said it. I mean, maybe for a marriage proposal—er, not that I'm expecting you to propose to me, obviously. At least not soon. Or ever. Or . . . well, maybe. That is—I mean—okay, let's just forget number three, shall we? Right, on to number four.

4. You're not allowed to hate A.J. I know that sounds weird, and sort of . . . I don't know, demanding, but this is a list of rules, after all. But if he ever stops hating me, I'd like to be friends with him. And I'd appreciate at least your tolerance of that.

Lily

P.S. Am I completely talking you out of this?

**Good lord, Evans, I never knew you were so high maintenance. I think I'll have to carry this list round with me so I can consult it at regular intervals to make sure I'm not violating any of these rules. Though, despite my hatred of all things rule-related, I've no urges to off you over it, just so you know.**

**Funny you should mention them, but our single rooms actually figure into my plans for how you're going to make up all that emotional distress you caused me. And you might be able to convince me to do a little making up on my end as well.**

**I don't hate Rookie—to be honest, I'm fairly sure he hates me, actually. But I think I could manage to tolerate this hypothetical friendship.**

**And I think we should at least go on a date first before we talk about marriage, Evans. (You though I was just going to let it go, didn't you? If only I was that kind, eh?)**

**James**

**P.S. Surprisingly, no.**

James,

Merlin, I feel like a complete git for sending that list. Let's just forget those rules, yeah? Except maybe number one. But I don't want to be one of those girlfriends who—well, hang on, am I your girlfriend? Stupid question? I don't know. Probably. Maybe we should have that talk about labels and such when you get back tomorrow. It can wait until after the snogging, though.

Lily

**Lily,**

**Well, in light of that, I suppose there's really only one thing left to say: Evans, will you go out with me?**

**James**

**

* * *

A/N: And that's officially the end. Bye for now!**

**(If you're looking for some amazing J/L fanfiction to feed your addiction, I'd highly recommend The Life and Times by Jewels5 (I know some of you are LaT fans already) or Commentarius by B.C. Daily.)**


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